A New Promise
by Rennwood Phoenix
Summary: "She is a mother and she loves her children dearly," Obi-Wan murmured. "It would kill her to lose one of them. I think if we choose a system far enough away from the Core, they will have a measure of safety. I plan to stay with them, to protect them and to train the children." ...Alternate ending to RotS, retelling of A New Hope. AU. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

**(A/N) Hello! Thank you SO much for checking this out! I'm so excited to be sharing it with all you wonderful people!**

 **This particular story was dreamed up since I love AU's, so I thought, why not? Usually I just write them out, then forget about them, but this one stuck out to me. I think I can honestly say my favorite character in the whole Star Wars saga is none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi, so this started out as a take on Obi-Wan's thoughts during the end of RotS, but it morphed and changed into a full-fledged AU.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

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 _ **A New Promise**_

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 ** _._**

 **Prologue**

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The hall was silent, save for the soft sound of breathing . . . but even that was hushed.

The two men stood, rigid, ten seconds seeming like ten hours. The light in the hall, though dim, felt like a hundred suns, their rays burning holes in their backs. The slight _whirr_ of a medical droid interrupted the blessed silence as it made its seemingly-slow approach. "Her trachea was damaged significantly. She will recover in time," its eerily human-like voice said, far too loudly for their tastes, "but if we do not operate quickly, the babies may die. Do we have permission to continue with the operation?"

"Yes, of course," he murmured.

"Wait, _babies_?" The other man blinked, incredulous.

"Yes, sir," the medical droid said. "She's carrying twins." The droid turned back to the room Padmé lay in.

Obi-Wan rubbed his chin in thought and fixed his gaze on the operating table as the hall returned to silence once more.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Obi-Wan murmured as he crept into the medical room. Padmé looked up and adjusted her hold on Leia.

"Better than before. Thank you." Her voice was rough and quiet.

"You look well."

Padmé nodded and smiled tiredly. The room was silent.

Obi-Wan picked up a sleeping Luke, gently cradling the baby as if he were made of glass.

"What did you decide?" Padmé asked. Obi-Wan sighed and went to stand by her bed.

"Padmé," he started. "You must know now that you are a dear friend to me and I would never do anything to hurt you. Right now, all the decisions we make are what we truly believe is best for the twins, the Jedi Order, and the Republic. The Empire _must not_ find these babies. You know that."

Padmé nodded. Obi-Wan continued: "Master Yoda and I believe that the safest thing we can do for Luke and Leia . . ." Luke began to fuss. The Jedi bounced him gently, then gave him to Padmé. Luke calmed immediately and reached a tiny hand out to wrap his fingers around Leia's fist. Obi-Wan rubbed his beard and swallowed. "We've decided they need to be separated."

Eyes growing wide, Padmé unconsciously tightened her grip on the babies. Obi-Wan sank onto the edge of her bed.

"You're not serious!" she whispered.

The Jedi nodded, his eyes searching Padmé's for any hint of understanding. "Their combined strength in the Force is too noticeable. As they grow older and stronger, Palpatine will have no trouble locating them. But if they are separated, they still have a chance. Bail had mentioned bringing Leia to Alderaan to be raised in the Court. He and his wife would care for her as their own child until she is old enough to meet you and Luke."

Padmé was uncharacteristically silent for a long time. Then, in scarcely more than a whisper, she said, "Where will you take Luke?"

"Master Yoda suggested Tatooine, where Anakin's relatives are."

"No." Padmé shook her head. "It's too much of a risk. Ana-Vader might find him there."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I agree." He took Luke again, cradling the baby and stroking his face. "Wherever he goes, I plan to stay, to train him when he is old enough."

"Are you sure you want to train him?"

Obi-Wan knew what she meant. Did he want a repeat of what happened to Anakin? No.

"Yes," he sighed. "He may be our only hope for defeating the Empire."

"The last time you put such a big responsibility on your apprentice, it didn't end well." There was a frightening edge to her voice.

"The last time, I was young, blind, and inexperienced. I have learned from my mistakes, Padmé. And I made quite a few of them. With Luke . . . This time, you will be there. And . . . he is not his father. Anakin was angry with me for a number of reasons, and furious at the Jedi for taking him from his mother, then never letting him see her again. I promise you, I will not make the same mistakes with Luke."

Padmé gazed at her son. Then, quietly, she said, "I will take your word for it."

Obi-Wan inclined his head in thanks. After a while, he asked, "Do you agree that the twins must be separated?"

"No. Every part of me is saying they need to stay together. They shouldn't grow up without each other . . ."

"Remember: If Palpatine find them, he will turn them into monsters. They have the capacity to be as powerful as Anakin was. Combined, perhaps even more. Palpatine would turn them into puppets to his will. We are only doing this to keep them safe."

"I understand that. But you _can't_ ask a mother to knowingly part with her child!"

"Can't I?" Obi-Wan leaned forward imploringly. "I know, for a fact, that a mother will always do what is best for her children."

Padmé's eyes were like daggers piercing his soul. "And what if you're wrong? What if the best thing to do is to keep them together so they can be twice as strong _together_?! Siblings are not meant to be separated, and what if I meet Leia later and she thinks I was playing favorites? That I didn't want her so I gave her to the Organas! I can't do that."

Obi-Wan didn't have the heart to speak.

After a while, Padmé whispered, "Is Anakin really gone?"

"I know," he said slowly, "that Vader is very much alive. But whatever remained of my brother Anakin before is now either destroyed or buried forever under darkness. I do not think there is much hope for him."

Silence reigned for a long time. It was an uncomfortable, grating silence, broken only by the occasional whimper from one of the babies.

Finally, when Obi-Wan was deciding on a way to excuse himself, Padmé murmured, "Dantooine."

"Excuse me?"

She sighed, not meeting the Jedi's gaze. "There's a forest planet called Dantooine, in the Outer Rim, without much around it. There are friendly settlements, but most of them are fairly primitive. . ."

"You want to hide there." It was not a question.

"Yes."

"And keep both children."

"Of course!"

Obi-Wan sighed, stood, and placed Luke in his crib. "I will speak with Master Yoda."

A slight smile touched Padmé's face. "Thank you."

The Jedi inclined his head, then turned and exited swiftly.

* * *

As he strode through the halls, Obi-Wan contemplated what Padmé had said: that a mother would not willingly part with her child. But hadn't his own mother done just that? He wondered if it had been simple for his mother to give him away, or if she had cried and begged them not to take her son. Or perhaps she saw that becoming a Jedi would be the best thing for him. . . After all, parents always tried to do what was best for their children.

Perhaps, when Padmé and the twins found a home, he would go to his home planet Stewjon to find his family. . .

Obi-Wan was so absorbed in his thoughts, he failed to notice the small, green Jedi Master in his path until he was nearly stepping on him. Obi-Wan came to a screeching halt, disguising his awkward stumble as a bow.

"Master Yoda," he greeted.

Yoda raised a critical eyebrow and smirked up at Obi-Wan. "Master Kenobi. Speak with you, I must."

"I was on my way to speak with you, also."

"Regarding Senator Amidala, hmm?"

"Yes, Master."

"Come." The green Jedi hobbled away, leaning on his gimer stick. Obi-Wan turned and followed him.

The pair soon arrived at a sterile, white room that featured only three low, blue chairs and a table to match. Yoda settled himself into the nearest chair, seeming perfectly at home. Obi-Wan perched nervously next to him.

"Master," Obi-Wan started. "I was speaking with Padmé, and she insists we let her stay with both twins."

"Agree with this, you do?"

"To an extent, Master. I believe it will be safer for all of them if they are separated. . . But, to be honest, I understand her perspective. She is a mother and she loves her children dearly. It would kill her to lose one of them. I think if we choose a system far enough away from the Core, they will have a measure of safety. I plan to stay with them, to protect them and to train the children."

Yoda bowed his head in thought. "If the will of the Force this is, obey it you must." He sighed. "Trust you I do, to make the right decision."

"Thank you, Master."

"Where will you take them?"

"Padmé suggested Dantooine. It's close to Naboo, where her family is, but not so close that it's dangerous for them."

Yoda nodded. "Very good. Now, work I have for you, during your time on Dantooine. Contact I have made with someone in the netherworld of the Force. Someone who has learned the secret of immortality."

"Who was it?"

"Your old master."

Obi-Wan leaned forward in his seat, eyes wide. "Qui-Gon!"

Yoda nodded solemnly. "Teach you, he will. . . Obi-Wan, farewell this is. I will go to Dagobah to learn what Master Jinn has."

"Well then, farewell, Master Yoda. . . Until we meet again."

Both Jedi stood and bowed simultaneously.

"Obi-Wan," Yoda said quietly. "Take good care of the children, you must. Enough of the future I can see to know that they will be very, very important in the fight against the Empire. Train them well."

"Yes, Master."

"May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi."

"May the Force be with you also, Master Yoda."

* * *

Obi-Wan leaned his head back, breathing slowly and purposely. He shifted, adjusting his back, which was disagreeing with him. "Sore" was an understatement. The seat he occupied was anything but comfortable. He considered going to the back of the ship so he could lay down and sleep for a few minutes, but they were nearly at their destination and he didn't want to wake Padmé before he had to.

The trip to Dantooine took twenty-one hours in hyperspace. The twins had been annoyed and they constantly wailed their displeasure for the first few hours. As of now, they were sleeping in an extra room, while Padmé took a long-needed nap. Obi-Wan had employed R2-D2 with watching the babies so Padmé could sleep and he could fly the ship. There was one hour left, and it couldn't go by fast enough.

Obi-Wan sighed, closing his eyes and kicking his feet onto the dashboard. That was something he would have scolded Anakin for doing, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

During the trip, the adults had hardly spoken with each other, unless necessary. All that had transpired in the last few weeks was finally taking its toll on them. It had been one week since the twins were born. Obi-Wan and Padmé had stayed on Polis Massa to let her recover, then after sending C-3PO and warm wishes with Bail Organa, they crowded onto Padmé's small cruiser with the twins and R2-D2. Obi-Wan had been concerned that arriving with a Royal Nubian Cruiser on a fairly undeveloped planet would raise suspicion. So they stopped at a spaceport, sold the cruiser, then bought an even smaller vessel that was meant for two people. There were two beds in cramped rooms, one lumpy, age-old couch, and a kitchen unit. Obi-Wan had settled himself into the cockpit, and there he'd stayed for the last twelve hours. He'd tried lying down on the two seats, but that was even more uncomfortable than staying upright.

He rolled his head, hearing all sorts of joints crack. _I'm getting too old for this sort of thing,_ he thought wryly, running a hand through his newly-cut hair. He and Padmé had dressed as refugees fleeing the destruction of Coruscant. After a bit of discussion, they decided to pose as a married couple, since anything else would raise questions that couldn't be answered. Obi-Wan decided to change his name to Ben, and Padmé agreed to take the name Pooja Kenobi, though with extreme reluctance. He had asked her about that and she'd answered: "Anakin and I were legally married. My actual surname should be Skywalker."

She had also told him that it was a blessing that Luke's hair and eyes matched his own, since he would be masquerading as the boy's father. He'd smiled grimly and a wave of agony passed between the two.

Though it was only an hour, it felt like five before the control panel started to blink and beep, signaling their arrival at Dantooine. Padmé woke and strapped herself into the copilot's seat. Then they began their descent into a new life.

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 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Hi again! I realized having just a prologue is no fun, so I gave in and posted this sooner than I had originally planned :) I want to keep a once-a-week schedule, so maybe on Saturdays?**

 **Also, I feel like I should clarify. This story will take place in the** ** _A New Hope_** **time. I will have flashbacks (some maybe a chapter long) to the first years on Dantooine, but after these next couple of chapters, things will get darker and grittier, which is how I like my AU's. :) This is mostly a sort of filler/catching up chapter.**

 **Thank you all for your reviews! They literally make my day :)**

 **Enjoy!**

.

 ** _A New Promise_**

 ** _._**

 ** _Chapter 1_**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

* * *

Luke Kenobi held his breath and strained his eyes against the darkness. Something brushed against his arm and he jerked in surprise. But then he reached out and grabbed it. A slight squeak followed his action. He tightened his grip. "Stay here," he hissed. "And stay quiet."

"There's nothing in here, Luke." The voice was quieter than his. "Tahyo said so."

"Tahyo has never been here."

"How would you know?"

"Father said so."

"How would _he_ know?"

Luke clenched his jaw. "He just does, now stop arguing and let me think."

Leia let out a huff. "I think this is a waste of time."

"But you agreed to come with me." He took a few steps forward, then reached for his belt and found a light. The white glow illuminated the walls and the floor nicely.

"Only because no one else would."

Luke didn't answer. They kept walking.

All of a sudden, their footsteps began to echo ominously, and instead of hard, packed dirt, a mottled, shining substance appeared under their feet. Leia squeezed her brother's elbow. "Look up."

Luke did. About three hundred feet above where they stood was the ceiling. It sloped up, ending in a point. Around it, on three of the walls, were about fifty balconies, all decorated with swirling designs and animals. The floor was perfectly square, about a hundred feet on each side. The floor shone brightly, despite being covered in a layer of dust. The embellishments on the walls glinted pure gold. On the opposite end of the room was a huge slab of stone, chiseled and ground to shining perfection. On it stood three statues; people dressed in flowing robes, holding staffs and books. Each wore a crown varying in size and shape.

Luke and Leia both stood, unmoving as the statues, with their mouths hanging slightly open. Finally Leia spoke.

"It feels like . . . we're intruding."

"Yeah," Luke agreed, taking one last sweeping glance and backing out, into the hall they came from.

* * *

Father was waiting for them when they returned. He had an amused glint in his eyes, but a stern set to his mouth. Luke smiled sheepishly and stared at his shoes. "Hello, Father."

Leia echoed his greeting. "We were just—"

Father held up a hand. "No false stories, please. I would like the whole truth this time."

The twins glanced at each other, then back at their father.

"We went to—"

"We were just—"

"The old temple—"

"Exploring, you know, because—"

"Just curious—"

"No one's ever gone, and—"

Father sighed and rubbed his temples. "One at a time, please."

Luke backed up slightly, and Leia took a breath. "We went to the old temple because we were curious and everyone else is afraid of it and we thought we could take a peek because it can't really be all that bad, right?"

Father raised one eyebrow.

Leia continued: "And we were going to come right back, but actually Luke talked me into it so it's sort of really his fault . . . ." she trailed off, glancing back at her brother, who fixed her with a glare.

There were a few moments of silence. Then, holding both hands out, Father said, "Comlinks, please."

The twins sighed, both placing their coms into his hand.

"Now," he said, "go inside. Your mother has supper."

They immediately perked up and jogged to the house, arguing the whole way.

Obi-Wan tilted his head back, pocketing the coms and staring up at the stars.

The stars . . .

It had been fifteen years since he had last traveled the stars, and, in a strange way, he missed them. But since then, he had lived with a fear of them too. He had a fear that one day, a patch of them would be blocked by some Imperial ship, from which would step. . . Obi-Wan shook his head. Padmé always rebuked him for that kind of thinking. "We're safe here," she would always say. "We established that already." He knew she said that for herself as well as him. She had confided in him earlier that she was terrified of Vader. She no longer considered herself attached to him, though Obi-Wan had a feeling she still loved Anakin.

Ah yes. Anakin. Obi-Wan didn't like masquerading as the twins' father, though he supposed he was, to an extent. According to this planet's system, he and Padmé were legally married. They had thought it best. The people on Dantooine were awfully strict about such matters; they didn't count a couple married until they had completed it with their local ceremony. And if they wanted to live there without being found out, they would have to avoid conflict as much as possible. So a week after they arrived, "Ben and Pooja Kenobi" were officially wed, in the eyes of the people of Dantooine. It was strange at first, calling Padmé his wife. That privilege belonged to Anakin. But Padmé had told him one day that she used the Holonet to access a program permitted only to the Queen of Naboo, and there she annulled herself and Anakin's marriage. Obi-Wan wondered about the wisdom of that. If Vader ever found out, he would be beyond furious. Obi-Wan snorted to himself. If Vader found out about any of this, that his old master and previous wife were hiding with his children, he would possibly destroy this entire village . . . or this entire planet. Obi-Wan shuddered at the thought.

The sound of sniffling behind him brought Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. He turned around and was immediately enveloped in small arms. "Little one," he murmured, returning the embrace. "What's wrong?"

The girl shook her head and buried her face further into his tunic. Obi-Wan stroked her hair slowly, suddenly remembering that twelve years ago tomorrow, Cordé Kenobi was born.

"Father?" the girl whispered.

"Yes, Cordé?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Mama is mad again."

"Cordé, listen. You mother is not mad." Obi-Wan closed his eyes, a wave of guilt washing over him. Padmé had an interesting way of dealing with any kind of strong, frustrated emotion, and that was snapping at everyone around her, then arguing. The older children had learned this early on and accepted it, because Leia did the same thing. But Cordé was still young and a bit more sheltered by her siblings. When her mother was on the more frustrated side, the ten-year-old, with her ever-so-tender heart, thought she had done something to make her mother mad.

"I know she seems that way," Obi-Wan continued, pulling his daughter back to look firmly into her eyes. "She is frustrated. She will calm down in a while. She's had a hard day. Do you understand?"

Cordé nodded. Her father wiped her tears away. "Have you had supper yet?"

She shook her head. "Well," Obi-Wan said, "I think it's time for some food. And maybe a square of chocolate after," he added with a wink. Cordé's eyes lit up, and she smiled.

* * *

"Are you feeling alright?" The twins and Cordé were in their rooms and Padmé and Obi-Wan had the couch to themselves. The house was sparsely furnished, and it was a daily battle to see who would get the couch first after supper. "Cordé was worried again."

Padmé sighed, swirling her tea around in her mug. "I feel so bad about that. I just . . . This last week has been hard and I try to keep my emotions in control, but . . ."

"It's alright. She knows you mean no harm." Obi-Wan rubbed her shoulder absently. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now." She offered a small smile. He could sense she didn't want to talk about it. "How is the kids' training going?"

"Very well. They are making amazing progress." He had begun training the twins when they were five, then four years later, Cordé began.

There was a comfortable silence. Padmé leaned her head against Obi-Wan's shoulder and closed her eyes. He thought she'd gone to sleep when she suddenly said, "In one week is the twins' sixteenth birthday."

Every year it was the same routine. When Luke and Leia's birthday came around, Padmé became emotional and irritable. Obi-Wan knew it was because that same day marked the fall of Anakin . . . the loss of what good might have remained in Vader's soul. It had become worse as the years went on.

"Yes, it is."

"They've grown so much . . . And tomorrow is Cordé's birthday."

Obi-Wan smiled. Though he loved the twins dearly, he held a special place in his heart for his flesh-and-blood daughter. Padmé knew this. She grinned and nudged his ribs. "You always look so happy when I mention her."

He laughed suddenly. "She's a special girl."

"They all are."

"Yes, Luke included."

Padmé punched his arm.

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "You know I love them."

"I've never questioned it."

Obi-Wan leaned his head back, still grinning. This was something he never thought he would experience: having a family. The Jedi forbade attachments, with only one exception. They let one of their Council members have a family since his race was dying out slowly. Nothing was happening to Obi-Wan's race, but here he was anyway, with a wife and three children. Granted, two weren't technically his . . .

Details, details.

He had discussed the matter of marrying Padmé with Qui-Gon Jinn, who had appeared one day while Obi-Wan was wandering the land surrounding their house more than fourteen years ago. Obi-Wan had explained the matter of the culture on Dantooine, and Qui-Gon had agreed with him. He'd said that he believed a little change couldn't hurt, especially since the Jedi Order technically no longer existed. He'd understood that Padmé needed someone to help her, and the twins needed a father. He reminded his old apprentice to teach the children not to be afraid of change, and to encourage them to form attachments. That had taken Obi-Wan completely by surprise. After being questioned, Qui-Gon answered that he truly believed the same attachments that the Jedi were so afraid of were actually beneficial in the long run. They helped to ground people; to help them realize the true nature of life.

Obi-Wan had taken his master's advice to heart. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to love someone (four people, actually) openly, and he never failed to remind them.

As much as he loved Padmé those first three years, it had taken her that long to accept it and even return it. But he was infinitely glad she did. Cordé was a living example of that love.

Speaking of which . . .

"What do you want to do for Cordé tomorrow?"

Padmé looked up with a smile. "The twins have a surprise, and I've collected supplies to make a cake."

Obi-Wan nodded appreciatively. "I have a few little presents too."

Birthdays were extravagant affairs for the Kenobis. Sugar and extra gifts were short in supply on Dantooine. The few small settlements got by just fine, but everyone worked hard for what they earned. Obi-Wan had a job as a mechanic; one that Luke and Leia helped with. They grew most of their own food, but some things had to be imported from the Core worlds. And those things cost money. On birthdays, the special person received a cake and a few gifts. Then Obi-Wan and the twins took time off work and they would choose somewhere special to go.

"Oh," Padmé said, "Tahyo and Brigit were going to drop over next week for the twins' birthday."

"Good."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence again. Obi-Wan smiled, contemplating for the millionth time how much he loved his family.

* * *

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 **Again, this was mostly a filler chapter, leading up to the meat of the story. I know, Obidala is a really out-there ship, but I plan on going back in later chapters to see how, exactly, it ended up happening (There's more to it than you see right now). :) So bear with me!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 2

**(A/N) Hi, everyone! Happy Saturday! :) I hope you're all doing well and not suffering too much from that post-holiday crash.**

 **So, this chapter, again, is mainly getting things set up for future chapters. The one after this is still a little more of a filler, too, but look forward to chapter 4! I'm super excited to share it with you all, and thank goodness I have even a little self control, otherwise I would probably post it right now!**

 **Thank you all SO much for your reviews! They make my day and fuel my writing :)**

 **Now, without further ado...**

 **.**

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 _ **A New Promise**_

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* * *

It was strange to see two years pass by as if it were two months. Luke supposed it was because he was getting older. Today he was eighteen. He was an adult. He could marry and build a house and start a new job instead of being apprenticed to his father. But, to be honest, he liked his life. He loved his family and was reluctant to leave.

He settled himself onto a fallen tree, gazing out over the cliff, across the landscape where the first pink glow of sunrise lit the sky. He felt a presence behind him, though the person made no sound.

"Hey, you."

Leia sighed. "It will never work, will it?"

Luke smiled. "You know it's impossible. So you should just stop trying."

"Oh, but it's way too much fun. One of these days you'll be surprised."

"Sure. Just keep telling yourself that."

Leia grinned and sat next to her brother. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks. Back at you." They were quiet for a while.

"Pretty, isn't it?" She motioned to the slowly-rising sun.

"Always is."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Is something wrong?"

Luke shrugged. "It's just weird to be old."

"We're not _old_."

"Older than we used to be."

Leia smirked.

Luke rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

She became serious all of a sudden. "What else is wrong?"

Luke shifted, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I don't know. It's just . . . I know these weeks are hard for Mother every year, but this time . . . This year, Father seems different too, somehow."

"You think it's the same reason?"

"Probably."

"And what is that?"

"You know as much as I do."

"Could it have something to do with . . . 'Mustafar'?"

Years ago, during their birthday week, the twins had been up, wanting a drink of water. The adults were on the couch, and Mother was crying. They heard something about 'Mustafar' and 'Anakin,' but never thought much about it. But then, a few years later, a similar thing happened and they began to put the pieces together.

"Maybe."

They were quiet again.

"There's something big Mother and Father aren't telling us."

Luke looked up. "How can you tell?"

Leia shrugged. "A feeling . . . And the Force."

He nodded. "I think it's time we got answers, don't you?"

She smirked. "Shy, timid Luke is growing up."

"Real funny. I'm older than you!"

"By about five point two seconds."

"I'm still older."

* * *

"Are you sure he'll like it?"

Obi-Wan looked up. "Of course he will."

Cordé ran her hand along the belly of the X-wing. She grinned as she admired her father's handiwork. "You think Luke would let me fly it?"

"You'll have to ask him."

In some ways, the physics and logic of which Obi-Wan questioned, Cordé seemed more like Anakin than Obi-Wan. Maybe it was the twins' influence, because he could say with absolute and unquestioning certainty that he was, indeed, Cordé's father. But her love of piloting or riding anything that moved said differently. Maybe that was Padmé coming out and not Anakin at all. Or maybe it was just Luke's influence.

"He probably won't let me."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "You underestimate him."

Cordé smiled. "Would _you_ let me?"

"No."

She chuckled. "That's what I thought."

At fourteen, Cordé was unusually mature for her age. She was only a bit taller than Padmé, but mature nonetheless. She had an uncanny ability to read into people's emotions and control her actions based off her findings. This caused her to act older than she was, and it caused people to treat her as such. She took mainly after her mother in appearance, with dark hair and intelligent brown eyes. Her jaw was strong and determined, also like her mother. But Obi-Wan saw himself in her too. He saw it in the way she took a debate coolly and led it around to the way she intended for it to end, and in her dry sense of humor.

But even with that maturity and reliability, it would take another few years for him to allow his youngest daughter to fly a dangerous ship out of the atmosphere. Especially a ship that was meant for people twice her age and with ten times her experience.

"You're not so strict with Luke and Leia."

Obi-Wan gave his daughter a long-suffering look. "Luke and Leia are four years older than you. They are now adults and can make their own decisions. And they can easily take care of themselves."

Cordé raised one eyebrow. "And I can't?"

"I never said that."

"It was implied!"

He rested his hands on his hips, setting his jaw firmly. "First of all, the twins have more experience with flying. Second, you will not speak with me like that."

Cordé opened her mouth to reply, but a well-timed call from the kitchen cut her off. "Ben! Cordé! The twins are coming!"

Both Kenobis' eyes grew large, and they quickly laid the reflective shielding tarp over the X-wing. Then they turned back to the house and broke into a run.

* * *

"Luke."

He looked up. "Yes, Father?"

Obi-Wan kept a perfectly straight face. "When you're finished, I'd like to show you something outside."

Luke furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded and returned to his third slice of cake.

Padmé grinned, motioning for Cordé to help her clean the table off. When they were finished, the family gathered outside and followed Obi-Wan back into the woods. They soon came to a clearing, which appeared to be perfectly empty. Cordé grinned and ran ahead, whispering something in his father's ear. He nodded, then turned to Luke.

"Last year, I decided I wanted to do something very special for your eighteenth birthday, Luke. As the eldest child I believe you have the right to do with this gift whatever you wish, but I warn you to use it wisely. And, if you agree and she wishes, Leia may use it also." Then he turned to Cordé, who looked about to explode, and nodded. She reached out, grabbed something from midair, and yanked. The air rippled, then came away in one big sheet, revealing the most beautiful sight Luke had ever laid eyes on.

Leia yelped.

Luke took a step forward in shock. "It—It's for me?"

Obi-Wan smiled, nodding encouragingly.

Luke let out a short, gleeful laugh and reached out a hand to rest it on the nose of his X-wing fighter. "Seriously?"

Cordé giggled childishly and ran to hug her brother. "You like it?"

He laughed with her. "How could I not love it? Father, how did you get it?"

Any kind of space ship was hard to find on Dantooine. Fighters, especially. Obi-Wan smiled slowly, winking. "I pulled a few strings."

And Luke could sense that was all he would say. He let out a long breath. Then he turned to his family, looking each individual in the eye. "Thank you. Really, thank you. This means a lot to me." Leia smiled and came to embrace him.

She knew what he meant. It meant that for the first time in his life, he was able to go where he wanted. He could leave Dantooine and start his own life. But that thought filled Leia with a terror she hated. She clenched her jaw, blinking back tears, then turned her head so her mouth was by her twin's ear. "Just don't leave yet, huh?"

Luke held his sister just a bit tighter, then released her. He smiled at the rest of his family. "So when do I get to fly it?"

* * *

.

 **There we go! I know it's a bit shorter, but I promise, the next few will pretty much explode with plot... (is that a thing? I want it to be a thing.) So hold tight and bear with me, and remember: set-up is important!**

 **Also, stay tuned because I might go against my own rules and post the next chapter sooner. I already have up to chapter 13 written, so if I can keep writing at this pace, I don't see why I shouldn't post twice a week!**

 **Hope you all enjoyed, and thanks for reading!**

 **Until next time :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**(A/N) Hi, everyone! Here I am again :) I've managed to keep up my writing pace, and I'm working on the end of chapter 14 right now! So I decided, why not post early? I think I'll keep this schedule, Saturday and Wednesday. How does that sound?**

 **So, this is, in fact, not the "big, exciting" chapter I teased. This site is a little messed up, because "chapter 1" on here is my prologue, and this one is "chapter 3" in my records. So sorry about that- I'll try to pay attention to the site's numbers versus mine from now on :)**

 **Anyway, this one is a little shorter, but it has some vital information to the rest of the plot! (And stay tuned for the next chapter! It's a good one.)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 3**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

"Gah!" Luke exclaimed, snapping his hand back and rubbing his palm. Cordé raised an eyebrow in question.

"You okay?"

He nodded, biting his lip.

Cordé sighed and held out her hand. "Let me see."

"No, seriously, it's fine. It just stings."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Boys and their pride. At least put some bacta on it when we get home."

Luke rolled his eyes, but grinned all the same.

He had decided earlier that day that the X-wing needed some cleaning, so he gathered his tools, his younger sister, R2-D2, and a bit of food, then settled himself in the clearing with the ship and began to work. Cordé helped enthusiastically. He knew she was trying to show their father that she was responsible enough to fly. Luke's personal opinion was that it was a lost cause. He doubted Father would let her use the ship until she was older, and until she proved herself with the skyhopper. He would never go against his father, but Luke personally believed she was both old enough and responsible enough. An X-wing wasn't so hard to fly. It just took a bit of getting used to.

He could sense her shift in mood before she asked her next question.

"Are you ever thinking of leaving?"

"Did you ask Leia the same thing?"

"Luke."

He sat back on his heels. "I'm serious! You guys all assume that I'm the one trying to get off this planet, but she's as old as me and has just as much ambition."

Cordé's brow creased. "She's not trying to fly dangerous ships and join the Rebellion."

"She wants to join the Rebellion as much as I do," he insisted. "And you. Just because Father won't let you talk about it doesn't mean you don't want to."

"So you're saying I want to disobey Father?"

Luke sighed. "No, I'm saying you really want to fly off this planet and do some good in the galaxy."

"So do you."

"You know we're talking ourselves in circles."

Cordé sighed in frustration. "You know what I think? I think Father and Mother are afraid of the Rebellion. That's why Father won't let me fly and that's why Mother doesn't want you and Leia to leave."

Luke glanced at her quizzically. "But they hate the Empire . . . ."

"If they did, they would let us do something about it! Instead, they're keeping us here for the rest of our lives. Do you feel like I do, Luke? Do you feel that pull to the stars? The feeling that _someone_ has to do _something_ , _sometime,_ and _you're_ that someone?" She dropped her tool and flipped her head back to stare at the sky. "I know there's something for me out there, and I know the Force is telling me to _go,_ but Mother and Father are too afraid to notice."

Luke was quiet for a long, long time. Finally, he admitted, "Leia and I feel the same way. We've talked about it. We were going to talk to Mother and Father today. The Force is urging us, almost pushing us to talk to them."

"About what?"

He gave her a steady, firm look. "Everything."

* * *

When all three of his children came at once that evening, standing firmly in front of himself of Padmé with determined looks on their faces, Obi-Wan had to reach deep into the Force to calm himself.

"Father," Leia said, her eyes betraying no emotions, "and Mother. We have to talk."

Once they had seated themselves at the table, Cordé got right to the heart of the problem. There was no beating around the bush in the Kenobi family. "We think you're afraid of the Rebellion."

That was so completely beyond anything Obi-Wan was expecting, he physically recoiled, eyes widening. He cleared his throat, glancing over at Padmé, who had the same expression as he guessed he did.

Luke cleared it up. "We're not saying you like the Empire. All we're saying is that in some weird way, you are afraid of the Rebellion and what they're trying to do."

Padmé sighed. "I guess there's no fooling you three." She smiled sadly, looking at Obi-Wan. "They're so much like their father."

He raised his eyebrows minutely, and Padmé responded with an almost-imperceptible tilt of her head. Obi-Wan sighed and placed his hands flat on the table, staring at them and searching for a way to say what he needed to . . . Finally he looked up and met the twins' eyes. "Luke, Leia . . . I suppose I should tell you now, and this may come across as harsh or insensitive or . . . anything else, and you will question my sanity, and that of your mother . . . But please believe me when I say that . . . I am not your father."

A pin could have been heard dropping in the silence that followed. Blue and brown eyes stared at him as Obi-Wan tried to convey his honesty through the Force.

"Well," Luke squeaked, then cleared his throat. "Well, then who is?"

"A man," Padmé said, "named Anakin . . ." Her voice caught, and Obi-Wan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Anakin Skywalker," she finished.

"What happened to him?" Leia whispered.

"He died," Obi-Wan said flatly, staring at his hand which still rested on the table. "He was destroyed by Darth Vader."

"Is that what happened on Mustafar?" Luke asked, his voice uncharacteristically hard.

Padmé raised her eyebrows. "How do you know about that?"

"Twice," Leia said, "Luke and I were up at night and we heard you talking about 'Mustafar' and 'Anakin.'"

"Both times were right around our birthday."

"We thought I had something to do with that."

Both parents sighed.

"I think we should start from the beginning," Obi-Wan said. Then, he began to recall everything that happened that fateful day:

"First of all—and I know this is a lot to take in, but hear me out—my name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, not Ben. And your mother is Padmé, not Pooja. We changed our names for the same reason we came here: to stay safe from the Empire. Now, please don't say anything. I need to just tell you this. Your real father—Anakin—and I were both Jedi. He was my apprentice since he was nine, and a very good man. I thought I knew him, but he had always been a bit secretive. I didn't know that he was secretly married to your mother for three years, during the Clone Wars. But . . . Something happened to him, and I found out soon after. I also discovered that your mother was carrying you two.

"I told your mother what had happened to Anakin, and she rushed to Mustafar to find him. I snuck onto her ship and came with. It appeared I was right. Anakin had betrayed himself, and accepted the Dark Side of the Force in place of the Light."

"He'd had a dream," Padmé said, "a while back, that I died during child birth. He truly believed it was a vision, so he did everything he could to save me. But instead of keeping me from dying, what he did destroyed him."

"He was lied to by the Emperor and turned to the Dark path. Palpatine claimed he could save Padmé if he joined the Dark Side. On Mustafar, I fought him. I didn't want to kill him, but he was a threat, so I tried." He bowed his head, but continued. "He was like a brother to me, and I hated myself for betraying him. In the end, he didn't die, but was instead completely consumed by who he had become in the last few days. Darth Vader."

The twins showed no emotion.

"Why did you pretend to be our father?" Leia asked.

"We thought," Padmé sighed, "we could protect you better that way. There were so many families fleeing the Empire at that time, hiding on remote planets, that we thought it would be the safest thing to pretend we were a family too. We thought we could blend in. And the name 'Kenobi' is much, much more common than 'Skywalker.' That's why Ben—Obi-Wan and I changed our names. Does it make sense?"

The only answer was the sound of chairs scraping on the floor and two pairs of feet heading to their rooms.

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. "Well, that went well."

* * *

"Father?" Cordé rubbed her hands together under the table, staring into her tea. Padmé had left to get some fresh air. The conversation had taken as much of a toll on her as it had the twins. "You're still . . . my father, right?"

"Yes, Cordé."

"Good." They were quiet for a long time. Finally Obi-Wan stood, walked around the table, and gathered his daughter in a fierce embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry it had to come out this way."

"Don't tell me, Father." Her voice was shaky. "Tell the twins. They're taking this very harshly." A single tear rolled down her cheek to splash onto her father's shoulder. "I believe you, but . . . They love you and want to . . . believe you . . . But this is a lot to take in."

Obi-Wan held her, stroking her hair. "You're so much like your mother, you know that? I'm very, very proud of you." Then he let go, and disappeared through the door to find his wife.

* * *

.

.

 **I know, I know. I didn't hold out the "I am your father" reveal. I guess I'm a terrible person. BUT I do have a reason for it. And that is that I really want the emphasis of this story to be something along the lines of that old phrase, "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb." Which, I guess, I want to translate to the question, "who is family?" Is family the people you are related to and are descended from, or is your family the people who were there every moment of your life and helped you through growing up?**

 **I will address that again in later chapters with the twins. So know, for now, that everything that seems weird or off or strange is probably there for a reason :)**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, and drop a review on your way out!**


	5. Chapter 4

**(A/N) Hello there! First off, I am SO sorry about not posting yesterday... I was so busy with all different stuff, and I literally didn't have time to just sit down and post it. SORRY! I want to keep a steady schedule, but life does get in the way sometimes...**

 **Anyway, here's chapter 4! I'm super excited about this one- it really kicks off the story :)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 4**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

The next morning, Mother and Father were gone. Cordé felt a moment of utter panic as she searched the house, finally ending in Luke's room. Her brother looked up with red, sleepless eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find Mother and Father!"

Luke's brow creased. "They're not outside?"

"No, I can't feel them anywhere!"

"You're sure?"

"Try it!"

So Luke reached deep within himself, to the Force, asking it to search for his parents. Their usually bright presences were unusually faded to tiny points of light, somewhere he couldn't trace. He opened his eyes with a panicked gasp. Cordé gave him an I-told-you-so look.

"Artoo!" he called, standing and pulling on an extra shirt. The droid came whistling through the door. "Artoo, Protocol one-oh-four. Now."

R2-D2 beeped and whistled for a moment, as Leia came into the room. Then the droid swiveled his dome, tilted it up, and a glowing blue image of Obi-Wan appeared. Their father looked about twelve years younger.

"Children," the crackling, recorded voice began. "If you are seeing this, then something has gone terribly wrong. Luke, thank you for remembering Protocol 104. It means you've been paying attention. I have no idea how old you all are, but please listen carefully. In the case that your mother and I have disappeared, which is the most likely scenario, I want you to go to Bail and Breha Organa on Alderaan. They are good people and they will help you. Tell them you are Luke and Leia Skywalker, and Cordé Kenobi. Remember that. Skywalker. Now, go to Tahyo and Brigit and tell them exactly this: 'Did you know that Anakin fell on Mustafar?' It is a code phrase and they will get you transport to the nearest space port. And, if necessary, they will go with you.

"I have stored some credits inside Artoo's toolbox. They will be enough to get you food and a ship for your journey. My lightsaber is behind that loose board with the scratch in my room. Use it wisely." The projection stared at the ground for a while. "I'm very sorry this had to happen. Your mother and I love you all very much. Please don't lose hope, and above all, _trust the Force._ It will never lead you astray. May the Force be with you all."

Then the picture faded and disappeared.

Cordé sniffled, then tried to disguise it as a cough. Leia rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Mother and Father will be fine."

"Should we even call him 'Father'?" Luke asked bitterly. Leia whirled, eyes wide.

"Of course we should! He raised us from birth and loved us. Or do you want that Imperial _robot_ as a father instead?" Her eyes left no room for argument. "I've had time to think about it. Now, come on. Both of you, pack a few things. It looks like we're leaving."

* * *

Even Leia shed a few tears when the trio left their home of eighteen years. Luke was uncharacteristically unhappy and rough, and he lacked his signature grin. But as they closed the door for the last time and turned toward the road, he stopped in his tracks. "My X-wing," he said simply. "I can't leave it here!"

Leia considered that. "How many people does it hold?"

"One."

"Then take Artoo and meet me at the Yavin spaceport. It's only a little ways away. Maybe three hours in hyperspace. Cordé and I will get that transport from Tahyo and be there a bit after you."

Luke's brow creased. "I don't know . . . I have a bad feeling about this."

Cordé nodded. "Me too. We should all take that transport."

"And leave Luke's prized possession here?" Leia quirked an eyebrow. "No, we might need it later."

"At least take Artoo," Luke insisted. The droid bleeped in question. Leia stared at him, considering. "And," Luke continued, "let me come with to talk with Tahyo, then when you're on the ship and gone, I'll follow you."

Leia sighed. "Alright."

The way to Tahyo and Brigit's house wasn't long—about ten miles—but it felt so much longer after they piled into the family speeder and started on their way. It seemed to drag on for hours. But eventually the scenery changed and they stopped in front of a house about half the size of the Kenobis'. They jumped out and ran to the door, R2-D2 trailing behind.

Their knocks were the only thing to break the tense silence that surrounded them. Shortly, to their relief, the door opened and Tahyo stepped out. He was a large, sturdy man with graying hair and an intelligent gaze. " _Servus,"_ he greeted in his own language. "What brings you all here?" His Basic was slightly accented, as most natives didn't learn it until their parents saw fit to teach them.

The twins looked at each other, then Luke said, "Tahyo, did you know that Anakin fell on Mustafar?"

Tahyo's eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step back. Then he waved his arms, ushering them inside. "Come, come, quickly." Once they were inside, the door securely shut, he asked, "What happened?"

"Mother and Father disappeared," Cordé said. "They're gone and we don't know where."

Tahyo nodded. "Ben warned me this might happen." He clapped a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Keep your sisters safe, and don't leave them, you hear me? He told me that was most important above all."

"Yes, sir." Luke clenched his jaw and stared at the ground, then looked up to meet Tahyo's eyes. The Kenobi family had known Tahyo and Brigit since they first landed on Dantooine. The native family had done everything in their power to help the Kenobis settle in.

"Now," the man continued, "I have a few extra Imperial Credits for you that I've saved in case of this, and a ship. It's small, but it will get you to Yavin Two, where there is a spaceport, and where you must stop and find a bigger transport to Alderaan. I was prepared to go with, but you are old enough to take care of things yourselves."

"But," Luke said, "I have an X-wing fighter here and I don't want to leave it behind. I was planning to let Leia and Cordé take your ship and I would fly mine."

Tahyo shook his head. "No, no. Your father gave me strict instructions for you and one of them was to _stay together_. My ship, I think, is big enough to dock your fighter on until you get to Yavin Two. Then you may have to leave it there unless you find a private transport."

He gave them more instructions, and after a few minutes his wife Brigit joined them. She was a thin, freckled woman with kind green eyes and a warm smile. She gave each of the children three hundred Imperial Credits. That was a fortune on Dantooine; maybe a years' worth of pay. They thanked her profusely. Then they said their tearful farewells.

Cordé rushed forward to embrace Brigit, who had been like an aunt all those years. Leia choked back a few sobs of her own as her younger sister wept on Brigit's shoulder. Tahyo pulled Luke aside and spoke to him for a while as the girls composed themselves. Then, finally, it was time to leave.

* * *

The ship was indeed small. It barely fit three people; there were two cramped rooms with one bed each, an old, lumpy couch, and a kitchen unit. The cockpit was average-sized, but that was only because of regulations. Otherwise, Luke suspected it would be about half the size it was.

He settled himself at the controls, taking in the new feeling. He tried not to look at the house and the two figures standing next to it as he started the ship and raised it above the ground.

"Luke!" Leia's panicked voice came from the hold. He whipped his head around. "Luke, Imperial shuttle at seven-o'clock!"

Luke clenched his jaw. "Looks like we'll be leaving my fighter here after all," he muttered, then, speeding the ship up as much he could, he cleared the atmosphere and yelled, "Strap in! We're getting ready for hyperspace!" He took a glance into the rear scanner. The shuttle was out of firing range, but making considerable progress. He frantically entered the coordinates for Yavin into the navigational computer and waited as it made its calculations. Luke's starship abilities were limited, to say the least. But his father had built him a makeshift simulator once, and it did the job of teaching all the necessary parts of flying. He was confident in his abilities as a pilot.

After their successful jump into hyperspace, Cordé unstrapped herself and entered the cockpit.

"I wish," Luke said with a forced smile as his sister sat down, "we could have gone back and gotten my X-wing. I have a feeling it would've come in handy."

"I think we'll come back," she said. "Someday. The Force isn't done with Dantooine yet."

"Yeah, maybe."

Cordé kicked her feet up onto the dashboard. Luke raised an eyebrow, but she ignored him.

"Is Leia okay?" Luke asked.

"I don't know . . . I think she's taking this harder than I thought."

"I think we all are." He gave his sister a pointed look. She shifted under his gaze.

"I'm fine. I mean, it was home, but . . . Mother and Father are gone and . . . Right now, I think I'd do anything to find them."

Luke was quiet, staring out into the blue swirling mass that was the galaxy.

Cordé sighed. "He's your father too."

"I know, I know, he raised me . . . But it's such a shock because I truly and without a doubt believed he was my real father and now . . . You know."

Nothing else was said. Cordé didn't know how to comfort him. He was always the one ready with a grin and a hug. Now the tables were turned and Cordé didn't know what to do.

* * *

When Obi-Wan said he missed traveling the stars, he didn't exactly mean as a prisoner. And preferably not in a cramped, dark corner of a ship that smelled like burning fuses. But he would have borne it if he knew Padmé and his children were safe back on Dantooine. Instead, his wife was sitting bravely beside him, and, if his plan worked, the children were on their way to Alderaan. He prayed to the Force that Luke remembered what to do in a situation like this. Protocol 104. Obi-Wan had drilled it into his son since he was small. He always told the boy, "If you don't find us sometime or the Force tells you we're not on this planet, you tell R2-D2 to activate Protocol 104." Luke had seemed to understand very well. Obi-Wan just hoped and prayed his son would still remember.

His plan wasn't perfect, though. If R2-D2 went missing, or if Tahyo and Brigit weren't home, or if the ship was damaged, Protocol 104 wouldn't work anymore.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He could understand why the Jedi Order forbade attachments. As beneficial as they were, they were prone to distract even the most skilled Jedi from the job at hand. They were a weakness . . . But sometimes weaknesses could turn around and become strengths. And sometimes those strengths were the strongest kind there could be.

The flight was ten hours long. Obi-Wan and Padmé were allowed to lie down if they wished, and they were given some food. They hardly spoke with each other. He could tell she was trying to hold in loose emotions. It seemed as if that was all he could feel through the Force right now; emotions. As weak as they were, he could feel those of the children, as they morphed from panic to confusion, to anger, to sadness, to a whole mixture of others Obi-Wan couldn't name. He tried to send love through their bonds and hoped beyond hope it would reach them.

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* * *

 **There we go! Let me know what you thought! I'm so excited to share the rest of the story with you all :D**

 **...I want to take a moment and thank everyone for their reviews! I've gotten some wonderful encouragement- it really fuels my writing and warms my heart :)  
Just a small note, though: If you don't like what I'm writing or don't like the Obidala pairing (because that's basically the reason for this story), please just don't read it. OF COURSE I welcome constructive criticism. But I would rather you don't read my work than post negative/degrading/spiteful comments. I LOVE hearing from you all, I really do! But negativity is not something I need or want. This coming from someone who has struggled with negativity in real life, leading to depression. Writing is an outlet for that, and I come here to be built up and encouraged by other writers.  
**

 **So, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for your reviews! And thank you for hanging with me on this journey! :)**

 **Until next time!**


	6. Chapter 5

**(A/N) Hey, all! It's time to post again! Wow, time flies...**

 **So, this chapter is super cool, I think, because it has the first flashback of the story! From now on, the sections in _italics_ will be flashbacks. I'm looking forward to sharing some backstory with you all. It's vital to understanding the character's motives, beliefs, loyalties, and views. (Also, the flashbacks will not be in "chronological" order, instead they will correlate with whatever part of the current story we're at.)**

 **Anyway, here you go! As always, enjoy! :)**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 5**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

The Yavin Two spaceport was huge. It was a seemingly endless maze of hangars, cantinas, fuel stations, and pointless corridors that led nowhere. Luke spent about half a standard hour trying to navigate his way from his ship's hangar to a decent-looking place where he could gather information. He and his sisters were turned around in at least fifteen hallways and three bars that looked like no place for teenagers. Finally they found a decent-looking cantina. Luke made his sisters wait at a table while he went to look for a buyer for their ship. He circled the bar, ordering a drink and keeping his eye out for a respectable-looking person.

An older, middle-aged Twi'lek settled herself on a stool at the bar. Luke overheard her ask a few other people if they had any kind of ship for sale. So he set down his empty glass, straightened his back, and made his way in her direction.

"I heard you need a ship," he began.

She nodded.

"Mine's a Nubian-class shuttle, model 34. Good hyperdrive, a bit on the small side, but perfect for two people. Got me from the Tooin system to here without so much as a sputter. What do you say?"

"What do you want for it?"

Luke considered that. It couldn't be worth much, but she sounded desperate. And he wanted to take an opportunity when it came his way, so he looked her straight in the eye and pronounced, "Forty thousand. Plus what fuel is already in it."

She tilted her head, not breaking his gaze. "Let me see it first, then we'll talk price."

Ten minutes later, the three siblings and the Twi'lek were in Hangar Bay 95 with their ship. The Twi'lek ran her hand along the underside of it, inspecting the engines, assessing it for damage. She walked around it four times, then came to stand in front of Luke. "Ten thousand," she offered.

Luke's eyes narrowed. "Thirty-five."

Her jaw clenched. "Twenty."

"Twenty-five thousand, final offer."

She paused, then nodded. "Deal."

They shook hands, then Luke and Cordé unloaded their gear while Leia collected the money. A minute later, the Twi'lek was firing the engines and taking off.

R2-D2 beeped a mournful farewell as he watched the ship depart. Leia grinned at him. "Don't tell me you got _attached_ to it!"

The droid whistled indignantly and rolled circles around the humans. Luke chuckled.

Cordé barely cracked a grin.

* * *

 _"Can you ever sense him?"_

 _Obi-Wan sighed. "Occasionally."_

 _Padmé's brow furrowed. "Would he find out where we are just from that?"_

 _"No," he reassured her. "Not unless he is on this planet._

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _He had to grin at that. "Yes, I am quite sure."_

 _A knock sounded at the front door, startling Padmé. Obi-Wan hurried to open it, and on the front steps stood a man, who held a large jug, and a woman, who balanced a dish in her arms._

 _"Hello," the man greeted, his face alight with a beaming smile. "Are we interrupting?" His Basic was accented, like the other natives of Dantooine._

 _"No, not at all." Obi-Wan grinned. "It's nice to see friendly faces." He opened the door wider and motioned for the couple to step inside._

 _"We live over there," the woman explained, motioning to her left, through the woods. "About a ten-minute drive east. My name is Brigit, and this is my husband Tahyo. We brought you some welcome food, and a jug of milk. We own two banthas, so if you ever need any milk, just come to us."_

 _Padmé entered, carrying a still-sleeping Luke. Her eyes shone with joyful tears. "Thank you so much," she murmured._

 _Obi-Wan bowed in gratitude. "I can't thank you enough. We're just settling here. My name is Ben Kenobi. This is my wife, Pooja, my son Luke, and my daughter Leia is sleeping in the back room."_

 _"It is wonderful to meet new neighbors," Tahyo exclaimed. "Only one family lives in this area, an hour's drive away."_

 _"Just wonderful," Brigit agreed. "You have a beautiful family."_

 _Obi-Wan inclined his head. "Thank you." He placed an arm around Padmé's shoulders, then motioned to the visitors. "Come, sit down, won't you?"_

 _Right on cue, Leia began to scream from the bedroom. Her wailing woke Luke, who fidgeted in his mother's arms, then joined his sister's cries._

 _Obi-Wan and Padmé shared an exhausted gaze, then she handed the baby to him and ran to comfort the other twin. He still hadn't gotten the hang of caring for children. Of course, it was mostly instinctive for Padmé, but the most contact Obi-Wan had ever had with children was occasionally helping out in the nursery in the Jedi Temple. Even then, he'd only been a young teenager, and the children were around two to three years of age. So he was still often clueless about the care of infants._

 _Apparently Brigit noticed his apologetic smile and awkward attempts at calming Luke._

 _"Oh, let me," she insisted, bustling around quickly, setting down her tray and reaching out to take the child. Obi-Wan released the baby reluctantly. But Brigit knew exactly what to do. She bounced Luke gently, murmuring softly and patting his back._

 _Tahyo chuckled and shook his head as the wild screams subsided and turned into quiet whimpers. "Women," he muttered. "They work magic."_

 _Obi-Wan agreed wholeheartedly. Then a thought occurred to him. "Do you have any children?"_

 _The atmosphere in the room changed quickly. Tahyo's eyes darkened, and Brigit stood still. "We did," the man admitted. "A little girl . . . but there was a speeder accident . . ."_

 _"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan murmured. "I know just a bit how hard that must be."_

 _Tahyo nodded. "We thank Gott every day for giving us friends in the village . . . and new neighbors."_

 _This brought a smile to Brigit's face, and she bowed her head to gaze into Luke's big, blue eyes. "Luke, you said?" she questioned._

 _"Correct," Obi-Wan nodded._

 _"Good, strong name," Tahyo approved. "It suits him."_

 _"Yes, it does."_

* * *

"Now what do we do?"

The three siblings sat around a corner booth in the same cantina as before, sipping various drinks.

"I mean," Leia continued, "we could try to find a transport, or we could stay here for a few days . . . we have enough money to do just about anything."

Cordé was silent, staring down into her drink solemnly.

Luke glanced around the cantina. "No one looks trustworthy," he muttered under his breath.

"It's a cantina," Leia emphasized. "No one comes here to do honest work. It's all thieves, smugglers, and outlaws here for a quick drink. So what are we going to do?"

"What would Father do?" Cordé mused.

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "Probably . . . Father would probably go talk to anyone worth talking to." He stood, and said, "Artoo, stay with the girls." Then he vanished into the crowd.

* * *

Darth Vader hated his prison . . . in far more ways than one.

He hated the blasted suit. Hated it from the very moment his feet reached the ground that fateful day on the Emperor's base when he screamed for his lost wife and child. He hated the red. He hated the stiffness of his movements, even after all these years.

It had been eighteen years that he wore the suit, and every day, every hour, every minute, he wished for his body back. He hadn't breathed fresh air, or felt the sun on his skin, or even lived completely without pain in nearly half his lifetime.

The pain. No matter how many bacta tanks he spent hours in, the pain was always there, behind his skull, inside his weakened bones. It never ceased . . . there was never a single moment of relief, because even in his sleep, his mind was in pain. He continually dreamed of what _could have_ been. He dreamed of the past, the future, and everything in between. He dreamed of family picnics on Naboo. He dreamed of teaching his son to fly a ship or fix a motor. He dreamed of sitting with his daughter, telling her stories about her grandmother Shmi.

He had visions of Mustafar . . . of the agony in Obi-Wan's eyes that he was too blind to see . . . Of his broken "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you." And how he had returned the statement so harshly . . . when all he had ever wanted or needed in his life was to hear those simple words. He had never had a father figure in his life, until Qui-Gon Jinn came to Tatooine and swept him away to the life he always dreamed of but could never conceive of grasping . . . And even Qui-Gon died. Obi-Wan became a brother, a father, and a confidant, all in one . . . And his own actions destroyed his mentor.

Those visions of Padmé always returned . . . he saw her in frightening clarity, screaming in pain. He heard her soft whisper and felt her gentle touch as she insisted that there was still good in him. He breathed in the stale hospital air and heard the _beep_ of the medical devices and the _whirr_ of the droids . . . And her soul escaped from his arms and was whisked away to the netherworld of the Force.

His entire life from that point on was encased in pure pain. The suit was painful, the visions and dreams were painful, and just the simple memory of life before the Empire constricted his throat to the point of suffocation . . . except that that was impossible, due to the infernal breathing machine strapped to his face. Even his _voice_ had been altered, for Force sakes.

He hated every moment of his existence.

He loathed his very being.

But what else could he do but embrace the hate? It made him stronger . . . And someday, he knew, he would need to be strong if he were to dispense with the Emperor and build his own, far greater, kingdom.

* * *

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 **I hope you enjoyed that chapter!**

 **Let me know what you thought- I always love hearing from you all!**

 **Until next time!**


	7. Chapter 6

**(A/N) Hey, all! Look at that, it's time to post again! This time I didn't miss Saturday. :)**

 **Oh, I wanted to ask you guys something. Would you rather I post twice a week with shorter chapters, or once a week with longer (3k or more words) chapters? I'm good with either one, but you have to tell me! Thanks!**

 **Anyway, here we go :) Hope you enjoy this! It's a good one.**

 **.**

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 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 6**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

If asked later how she'd fallen asleep on Obi-Wan's shoulder in a dark, putrid corner of a freighter, Padmé would never be able to remember exactly.

Stress, she supposed it was. That, or the fact that she hadn't gotten a single second of sleep since the evening before their capture. That would be over fifty standard hours, she reasoned. But it did no good thinking about it. All she knew at that point was that she desperately needed the rest. And she guessed Obi-Wan did, too, based on the fact that she often woke on and off to the sound of light snoring.

He'd always looked troubled in his sleep. The time of rest and relaxation during the night was supposed to be just that. Night was supposed to be a time when one could forget all the troubles of the world and simply _sleep._ But ever since they lived on Dantooine, Padmé had noticed that instead of a look of utter peace, like the children often displayed, her husband's face suggested pain and turmoil and battles within himself. Old age had nothing to do with it, that much she knew. Whatever it was, it made her want to wake him up so he wouldn't have to dream those terrible dreams he often told her about. It wasn't fair that he would have to go through such agony, regret, and suffering, all because of his most dear, loved friend.

Padmé shook the thought of Anakin from her mind before it appeared. She didn't need the distraction or the worry. She needed to think. And thinking was what she did best.

First, she reminded herself, she was not Force-sensitive. She couldn't just _feel_ that her decisions were right. She had to _know,_ based on obvious, solid facts that she collected. And so far, she did not have many of those.

What she did know, however, was that their capture had not been random. Imperial soldiers often landed on Outer-Rim planets, either searching for slaves, supplies, or parts for their ships. All three things were cheap on planets with under-developed economic systems such as Tatooine, Jedha, Jakku, and Dantooine, to name a few. Padmé and Obi-Wan's capture had not been one of those trips. The entire village would have been rampaged and searched through if it were.

No, their capture had been purposeful. . . It had been planned and executed with Imperial precision. Obi-Wan had said the children were still in the house even after the freighter left the atmosphere, so apparently the Imperials either didn't know the children existed, or didn't care.

With a deep sigh, Padmé let her head fall back onto her husband's shoulder.

* * *

Luke had never felt comfortable in crowds. The feeling of people pressing on him from every side made him more nervous than he'd care to admit. He pushed his way through as well as he could, trying to avoid any rough, ferocious-looking beings. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew it had to be quick.

Cantinas were things he didn't run into frequently. There were maybe two or three on all of Dantooine, only one of which he'd visited, and then only to briefly shake the hand of an old friend of his father's. Bail Organa, he believed the name was, but he didn't even remember the man's face.

 _Bail Organa,_ he repeated to himself. _Alderaan._

None of this made sense.

He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, which he wasn't sure actually worked. His hand-woven farm attire wasn't exactly blending in. Everyone around him wore either space suits or fine, silken threads from the Core worlds.

He'd never felt this out of place in his life.

As his eyes traveled side to side, Luke wondered what he was really looking for. _Someone trustworthy,_ he kept repeating, all the while fingering the blaster at his side. He had no clue what a real trustworthy person would be doing, drunk at a bar, but this was his best option for now.

 _What would Father do?_

Father would survey his situation, separate the good people from the bad, inquire here and there, but most of all, Father would trust the Force.

So, instead of primarily using his eyes to single out trustworthy-looking people, he reached out to the Force and asked (no, begged) it to help him find the right person that would help them on their voyage.

Suddenly, without warning, a huge, fuzzy _wall_ smashed into Luke's face. It roared in annoyance, and grabbed Luke's shoulders to shove him aside.

A voice sounded from behind the creature. "Chewie! _Chewbacca!_ Get back here and leave that kid alone!"

The creature roared again.

"Yeah, I know you're mad, but ya can't take it out on people like that."

A figure appeared from behind the wall of fur and grabbed Chewbacca's arms. "Listen to me, buddy. Calm down."

Chewbacca growled.

"Yeah, yeah, but it was an accident, okay? I'm sorry."

The wookiee's growls became softer and more subdued.

"Great, now let's get back to the ship. Alderaan ain't walking distance."

The two turned and headed back the way they came, while Luke stood in shock, trying to process what had just occurred.

Then it hit him.

"Wait!" he yelled, jogging to catch up with the man and wookiee. "Did you say Alderaan?"

The man turned swiftly, eyebrows raised. "Yeah." His hand rested on his blaster, and though he feigned nonchalance, Luke could tell he was a bit tense.

"I need a transport to Alderaan," he explained. "As fast as possible. And I'm willing to pay quite a bit for it."

The man grabbed Luke's elbow and swiftly guided him to a corner booth, the wookiee following closely behind. Then he stuck out a hand and Luke grasped it.

"Han Solo," he introduced himself. "This is my first mate, Chewbacca."

"Luke Kenobi. When can you get us to Alderaan?"

"That depends. What's the cargo?"

"Uh, me, one droid, and my two sisters."

Han cracked a grin. "Family man, eh?"

Luke rolled his eyes.

"Alright, I'm gonna need ten thousand, all in advance."

Leaning forward, Luke thought over and over, _What would Father do?_ He wouldn't take risks, that was for sure. "I can give you five thousand now, and ten thousand when we reach Alderaan."

Han raised his eyebrows. "Fifteen, huh? . . . Okay, you got yourself a ship."

* * *

 _When the twins were five years old, Obi-Wan decided it was time to begin their training._

 _He and Padmé had discussed the implications of having multiple trained Force-users in one place. They had determined that, yes, it could be a risk in a few ways, but the positive side far outweighed the negative. If the children never learned to harness and control their power, the Emperor would be more likely to turn them to his side. They hated to think about it, but it was a valid point._

 _They never told the children the word "Jedi" until they were ten years old. It was safer that way._

 _So, on one particularly bright morning, Obi-Wan hauled the twins out of bed to watch the sunrise. He made them a quick breakfast with cooked grains and berries and cream, and led them through the woods, into the clearing behind the house. They were confused and restless, until he told them that he had a special story for them._

 _Then he told them everything he could. He explained midichlorians and how they affect one's Force sensitivity. He told of his old master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Yoda. He spoke of them as not Jedi, but great warriors. He told them of the evil that was present in the galaxy, and how even good people could succumb to it._

 _When he finished the basics, the two children stared up at him, wide-eyed. Obi-Wan grinned. "Was that too much information?"_

 _The twins shook their little heads_

 _Leia furrowed her brow. "But . . . Do we have the power, Father?"_

 _Luke grinned, his face lighting up like a ray of sunshine. "I hope so," he exclaimed before his father could reply. "I wanna beat those bad guys!"_

 _Obi-Wan laughed. "Don't worry, you two. You have more power than you know right now."_

 _Their eyes grew wider than he thought possible._

 _"And that," he continued, "is why I brought you out here. You're going to learn how to use it."_

 _Granted, Padmé seriously questioned the wisdom of teaching two rambunctious five-year-olds how to harness the Force, but Obi-Wan assured her that it could only do them good. If they had been separated, the situation may have been different, but together they fed off each other's auras and would have discovered the Force one way or another._

 _This way, they had some control._

* * *

After so many hours in a dark freighter, regular daylight was blinding. Padmé and Obi-Wan stumbled out, squinting. Five storm troopers surrounded them, along with two or three high-ranking officers. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Obi-Wan surveyed the area. They were in some sort of battle station, in a huge loading bay. But as he scanned side-to-side, he failed to notice on tiny detail. Six huge ranks of troops were lined up at attention in front of them. About ten high-ranking officers stood attentively in front of them.

He felt Padmé tense beside him, and he shifted his cuffed hands to rest on her forearm. Her eyes were wide and her face had gone completely pale.

Glancing up again, Obi-Wan realized the reason for her terror.

Like a huge, looming shadow, a figure strode down the ranks of soldiers. He stood nearly seven feet tall and wore all black. A black helmet covered his face completely, from which emitted a harsh, mechanical rasp that resembled breathing.

This man was completely unrecognizable from the outside, but Obi-Wan knew who he really was.

"Lord Vader," a general bowed quickly from the waist, then motioned toward the two. "We retrieved these people from Dantooine. Are they who you believe them to be?"

The hangar was silent for a few moments, save for Vader's ugly breathing.

"Yes, General. Good work. Go up to Grand Moff Tarkin. I believe he has a promotion for you."

The general bowed again, then made his hasty escape.

Obi-Wan glanced to his side quickly. Padmé's jaw was clenched and her chin was elevated. But he could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

Those few moments in between speaking seemed to drag out for hours. He tried not to focus on the man standing in front of him, instead he concentrated on searching for the children and comforting Padmé. He felt through the Force that the children were safe, at least, though he could not tell where they were. _Far from here, thank the Force._ However, he had no clue where "here" was.

"So." Darth Vader's deep and unfamiliar voice boomed through the hangar. "We meet again."

For all Obi-Wan could tell, Vader was trying to ignore Padmé. Not once did her turn his head even remotely in her direction.

"You should have known I would find you, old man."

Obi-Wan worked up what courage he had left. "It's been a while, Anakin."

But that was a mistake in many ways. Saying that name out loud seemed to finally break Padmé. She gasped, then fell against Obi-Wan, tears finally running down her ashen face.

Vader seemed to growl, deep in his throat. "That name," he snapped, "no longer has any meaning for me."

Obi-Wan could feel all the emotions radiating off his old apprentice. Anger was the most prominent, though he wasn't sure who it was directed toward. There were feelings of betrayal, jealousy, and . . . love? That, he knew, was directed toward Padmé. He hadn't thought the monster had any kind of light left in him. Apparently, he was mistaken.

With a swirl of his cape, Vader turned, shouting, "Find a cell for them, immediately."

* * *

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 **Please let me know what you thought! And again, let me know when you'd rather I update.**

 **Thanks so much for reading! You guys are the best :)**

 **Until next time :D**


	8. Chapter 7

**(A/N) Hey, all! I'm so sorry I didn't post on Wednesday... My life has been over-the-top crazy like never before. So thanks for hanging with me! I've been thinking, and I decided to make the chapters almost twice as long and post on Fridays or Saturdays. How does that sound? Sorry to change suddenly, but life is hard to keep up with sometimes.**

 **Anyway, here's an ultra-long chapter to make up for my bad planning skills. :)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 7**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

"You sure this guy is okay?" Cordé asked.

After striking the final deal with Han Solo, Luke had found his way back to his sisters and debriefed them.

"I can't be sure, but he seems like a decent person. We have to take this chance, though. The Force is telling me to hurry, and Han boasted that his ship was fast."

"That's an awful reason to trust someone," Leia insisted. "Father wouldn't want us to take risks!"

"It's not a risk," Luke countered. "If anything goes wrong, we can take care of ourselves. We're Jedi, for Force sakes!"

"Shh," Cordé scolded. "People don't like that word anymore. For all they care, it's a stupid ancient tradition that got millions of people killed. We have to be careful."

Suddenly, a metallic voice called out, "Artoo! Artoo, is that you?"

The droid in question squeaked and whirred, turning around.

"Oh, R2-D2, it is you, it _is_ you!" A tall, golden protocol droid raised his arms excitedly and patted R2-D2's dome. "It's been so long, I wondered if you'd been deactivated!"

While the two droids chatted happily, the three humans glanced confusedly at each other.

"Wait, hold on," Leia interrupted. "What's going on? Who are you?"

"Oh!" the golden droid exclaimed. "I apologize, madam. I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations."

"And you know Artoo?"

"Oh, yes! He and I have been comrades since my first week of functionality."

R2-D2 beeped happily.

"That's nice." Leia didn't seem impressed. "But we have to get going now." She beckoned to her siblings and strode out of the cantina, Threepio and Artoo all the while conversing loudly.

"Hey!" a voice sounded from across the room. "That's my droid!"

Luke turned to face the man who had shouted, and caught a glimpse of C-3PO's startled eyes.

"Oh dear," the droid muttered.

Surprisingly, it was Cordé who struck a deal with the man. She stepped forward and blurted out, "I'll buy him from you!"

Her siblings stood in complete shock, while Threepio _insisted_ that "no, that wouldn't be necessary" and that "his master gives him an oil bath every few months" and "he's really made useful." But Cordé wouldn't be swayed, and within the span of about three minutes, Threepio belonged to her for the price of one hundred credits.

* * *

"What a piece of junk!" Luke exclaimed, immediately upon stepping into hangar bay 94.

Before Leia could shut him up, Han turned and countered, "May not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. Now we're a little rushed, so if you'll just hop on board, we'll get outta here."

As Luke started up the ramp, Han grabbed his elbow and hissed, "I thought you said only one droid."

"Yeah, he just kind of appeared," Luke said, yanking his arm free. "And we own him now, so we can't leave him behind."

Han couldn't be sure, but he thought the younger girl's chin elevated just a bit and her mouth formed part of a smirk as she boarded.

The Millennium Falcon was not, in fact, a piece of junk. True to Han's word, it boasted the fastest Kessel Run, and he had, indeed, outrun Imperial Starships before. But those features were nearly all the ship could boast in its favor. Otherwise, it tended to fall apart often, the bunks were cramped and putrid, and the seating areas were ratty and uncomfortable. It seemed as if the only thing holding it together were the hopes and dreams of its pilot.

The journey started out fine, as most journeys do. It was only about six hours to Alderaan through hyperspace. So the group made themselves comfortable (or as comfortable as was possible) in the lounge area. The droids relaxed at the couch with Chewbacca, playing a holographic chess game. Leia paced back and forth, arms crossed, deep in thought, while Luke, with the old blast helmet he'd found in a corner, ran Cordé through drills.

Cordé, specifically, would often be frustrated with the blindness the helmet caused. She liked to see an object in front of her, instead of purely trusting the Force. Her father had pounded into her mind that she needed to forget what she _wanted_ to do, and instead do what he _told_ her to do.

Luke didn't know for sure, but he felt as if they would have to protect themselves very soon.

When he turned sixteen, Luke had received a lightsaber from his father. The blade was blue and the handle scratched and worn. It vaguely resembled Obi-Wan's in a subtle way. However, his father would never tell who it belonged to.

"Who gets Father's lightsaber?" Leia asked suddenly, startling Cordé and causing a blast to hit her in the shin.

"Focus, Cordé," Luke berated his sister. "You can't be startled so easily."

"I think I should keep it," Leia continued.

Luke shook his head as Cordé removed the helmet. "You're the best with a blaster. Cordé should have it. Just until we find Father."

This seemed to satisfy Leia, and she resumed her pacing. The younger girl replaced her helmet and raised her lightsaber. "I really hate doing this, you know that?"

Luke grinned. "Too bad. It'll probably save your life someday."

He could sense her eye-roll.

"About two hours to Alderaan," Han announced suddenly, striding through the hallways and plopping himself into an empty chair. "No run-ins with Imperial slugs this time."

The room remained silent, save for Cordé's lightsaber and the faint "zing" of the remote's bolts.

"Well don't everybody thank me at once," Han remarked, scowling.

"Could you shut up?" Leia snapped from across the room.

The look on Han's face was almost comical as his eyes widened and his mouth formed a slight 'O' shape. " . . . Absolutely, your Worship!" He turned to Luke. "Who does she think she is, anyway?"

Wisely, the younger man stayed silent. Cordé deactivated the remote and removed her helmet again. This was too good to miss. When Leia was riled, there was no escape. The best thing to do was not rile her up in the first place.

The fire that came into Leia's eyes at that moment couldn't be rivaled by any creature, humanoid or not.

Those fiery eyes fixed directly onto Han Solo. Her eyebrows were raised and her nostrils flared. Luke almost felt sorry for the guy. _Almost._

" _Who am I?_ " she nearly spat. "Who are _you_? A smuggler. A low-down, dirty, sniveling, laser brained _smuggler_. At least I was taught some _respect_. At least my parents had a _place_ in high society. At least _I_ was raised to think logically through situations like _this_ one, when I have to get to a different planet while protecting my siblings when I've never _exited the atmosphere_ on my own planet. At least I was taught to treat all people the same, no matter their rank. At least I was taught to display _honor and dignity_ without trying to _earn_ _it._ " And with that, Leia was gone.

Han Solo sat frozen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Thank the Force, she'd had so many outbursts like this (many being even worse), Luke was able to see it as vaguely funny and had to turn away so as not to upset the pilot with his amused grin.

Chewbacca roared from the couch. Han fixed him with an incredulous stare. "Laugh it up, fuzzball." Then he, too, stormed out of the room.

* * *

"Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan," Han commented unnecessarily. The four humans and Chewbacca were crowded into the cockpit, with the droids looking on from the hallway. The huge control panel was a little intimidating, but Luke had spent about an hour just sitting in front of it and staring at it until he'd memorized the layout, and associated most of the controls with ones he was familiar with.

So when the nav computer started beeping, Luke was pretty sure they were near their destination.

"Alright," the pilot started, "Pulling out of hyperspace in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1!"

The blue swirls shifted to long, white streaks, which vanished, leaving a huge blue-and-green planet in the window.

Cordé gasped. "It's huge," she whispered.

"Big enough to crush all your hopes and dreams," Han muttered under his breath.

The landing itself was relatively uneventful. But the second Chewbacca stepped off the ship, all hell broke loose.

Blaster fire came from all angles, pelting the loading ramp, shaking the ship, and knocking the antenna off the top. With a huge _roar_ , Chewie shoved all the humans back and closed the ramp behind him.

"What was that?!" Han demanded, sprinting to the cockpit.

"Well, you'd better figure it out or we'll all be dead," Leia nearly screamed as the ship continued to rock dangerously.

"Noted, Princess," the furious reply came.

Cordé stood in shock, her hands sweating and her entire body shaking. Luke grasped her shoulders and pulled her backward into his chest. "Trust the Force," he whispered. But he, too, was tensed like a spring. His only concern was the safety of his sisters, otherwise he probably would have been screaming at Han, too. But Cordé didn't need more stress right now. She needed her big brother to protect her. She needed a feeling of safety, and she needed someone to remind her not to worry. So much had happened in just the last two days. She needed a solid foundation. And he was determined to give her that.

* * *

 _Their home on Dantooine was tiny. It barely accommodated one person, let alone two grown-ups and two babies. One narrow bunk occupied the closet-sized bedroom. A bowl served as a washbasin, and the kitchen was composed of a fireplace and a table. Two chairs sat tightly against one of three windows, with hardly more than a tray as a table between them._

 _But it was sturdy, and it was warm. And for now, that was all that mattered._

 _Padmé was still weak from the babies and the surgery, along with the emotional exhaustion that came along with it. She clung to Leia and surveyed the house, Obi-Wan carrying Luke behind her._

 _"It's so small," she murmured._

 _"It will do," he replied, bouncing the fussing baby. "It will have to. When we can afford it, I can expand it."_

 _Padmé didn't answer._

 _The last few weeks had taken so much out of her. The strong, motivated woman Obi-Wan knew had nearly disappeared, leaving only a shell of her former self. She needed a firm foundation on which to build herself back up, and he was willing to offer that, if she wanted it._

 _"I will sleep on the floor in the sitting room, and the twins will fit nicely next to the bunk," Obi-Wan planned out loud._

 _Padmé nodded, still silent._

 _He rested a hand on her shoulder briefly, then continued through the house._

* * *

 _The twins were in bed and the house was blessedly quiet. Obi-Wan and Padmé retreated to the porch with their tea to rest on the steps and gaze out at the vast landscape. Their little house was covered by trees on the back three sides, but the front was open and faced a huge clearing. The sun cast its light across the grass and touched the pair's faces gently._

 _"So," Padmé murmured. "Three years."_

 _Obi-Wan shook his head in disbelief. "Unreal."_

 _Upon hearing her shaky breath, he clasped her shoulder gently, then ran his hand down her back._

 _"Three years today," she repeated._

 _He knew exactly what she meant. Today the twins turned three. That marked the fall of Anakin and the rise of Darth Vader. The last two years were the same—she became irritable, closed off, and depressed._

 _As tragic as the situation was, Obi-Wan believed it had created a bond between the two. They shared one common goal: to protect the twins from the Emperor. That goal had solidified their relationship . . . whatever that relationship was._

 _Padmé needed time to mourn, that much was clear. But over the years, Obi-Wan had finally acknowledged what he'd been suppressing since that fateful day when he ventured to her apartment to bring her the news of Anakin's fall. He acknowledged that he loved this woman beside him, and his love for the twins only grew with every moment spent in their presence. They were the children of his brother . . . how could he not love them as his own?_

 _The Jedi forbade attachment, but the bond between Master and Apprentice was encouraged, cultivated, and appreciated._

 _The Jedi forbade love, yet wasn't it love for the galaxy which drove them to protect the people in it?_

 _"Do you regret knowing Anakin?" Padmé's soft voice broke the silence._

 _The question took him so completely by surprise, Obi-Wan had to stare ahead for a long while before crafting a careful answer._

 _"No," he admitted, finally. "I believe he could have been raised differently. If I had allowed him to see his mother every so often, I think the end would have been changed. But I don't regret knowing him. I loved Anakin, you know that. And if not for him, those two terrors inside wouldn't be here." This caused a slight smile from Padmé. His hand stroked her back gently. "Training him were the best and worst years of my life. He was such a lively young man. There was never a dull moment. He was a great Jedi. He could have been the best . . ." His voice trailed off as Padmé released a heaving sob. She wiped furiously at her face. But Obi-Wan just pulled her close and let her head rest on his shoulder._

 _"I will never," he continued, "regret knowing Anakin. Just remember him, Padmé. Mourn him. He was a great man. And though his body is still alive, his soul is changed. But his memories live with us. I believe the Force has a plan for him yet."_

 _And, suddenly, he couldn't see. His vision blurred, and hot tears streamed down his cheeks._

 _Together, Obi-Wan and Padmé mourned not a man turned from the light, but a fallen friend. Anakin was gone, they both knew that. A monster stood in his place. But the good man, the man they both loved, would be remembered forever._

* * *

"Millennium Falcon," a voice crackled over the intercom. "You have violated Alderaanian law. Prepare to be boarded."

The four people stared at each other, eyes wide.

"I didn't do anything," Han hissed. "I have a code. This is a scheduled flight."

"Tell that to them," Leia motioned out the window to where a small legion of troops marched with precision . . . but not Imperial precision.

"They're not storm troopers," Luke noticed.

"Thank the Force," Cordé breathed.

Han pursed his lips. "That don't mean they're less dangerous. Keep your eyes open, huh?"

Together, the group made their way to the ramp . . . which revealed the faces of over ten troops. A man strode through the ranks and into the ship, followed by two masked soldiers, then closed the ramp behind him. Staring evenly at the group, he raised one eyebrow. "Only serious situations require the boarding of ships. Care to explain yourselves?"

The man had a striking, intimidating figure. His grey cloak draped over one shoulder and fell to his ankles. His stance projected authority and confidence, though his eyes were soft and almost understanding.

"If I may, sir," Luke began, sensing his twin's argumentative mindset, "we don't know what we did wrong. We have a landing code . . . We're refugees from Dantooine, and all we need is to speak to someone named Bail Organa . . ."

The man's eyebrows went up. "Your offense was that you did _not_ follow the control's orders, instead you landed on a restricted pad that is _only_ meant for royalty and guests of the court. And here I am, if you must speak with me."

Luke's eyes widened. "Bail Organa?"

" _King_ Bail Organa, but yes." The man's eyes softened.

The four inclined their heads in respect, even Han sensing that arguing would only result in more gunfire and a very unhappy king.

"Sir," Luke said before his siblings could start, "I was sent here by my father . . . or, my adopted father. My siblings and I are fleeing our home planet under, uh, extreme circumstances. We're not sure what to do. The only message my father left for me was to find you and tell you our names . . ."

"And what are they, son?"

"Luke and Leia . . . Skywalker, and Cordé Kenobi."

The ship was silent for a long time.

"Who are your parents?" Bail murmured.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé . . ." A long moment came where Luke realized he had no clue what his mother's real name was. His whole life he knew her as Pooja Kenobi. "Amidala," he finished, surprising himself. He'd never heard the name in his life, but the word seemed to have quite an effect on the king.

Bail's eyebrows came together, and the look that came into his eyes could only be described as pure disbelief. " . . . I haven't heard that name in a very, very long time . . ." Then he studied Luke's face. "You said Skywalker, too?" He glanced between the twins. "Anakin's children . . ." he whispered.

Leia nearly sprang forward. "You knew him?"

Han interrupted. "Hey, wait, hold up. Look, I love this whole bonding, figuring-out-your-past thing. I'm all for it, really, but I have business to take care of here, so I need to be on my way."

Bail straightened up, nodded, and opened the boarding ramp. "I'll have one of my men move your ship. Rela over there will lead you to a transport to the city."

* * *

Alderaan was like nothing Cordé had ever seen. Granted, she hadn't seen much. The only view she'd had of all of Yavin Two was through a tiny cockpit window.

The beauty of Alderaan far surpassed Dantooine in her eyes.

Her mother had often told her stories of distant planets—tried to describe their beauty. She took Cordé across the cool, silken Naboo lakes, through the crowded, bustling Coruscant streets, into the vast, scalding Tatooine desert . . . But words could only do so much.

Cordé had never been able to imagine mountains—had never had anything to relate them to. Her father once told her that some mountains were taller than a thousand trees standing on top of each other. As a seven-year-old, she had laughed, saying that nothing could be _that_ tall.

But now, leaning against a cool marble railing, she wondered how she could have been so ignorant.

The wind grazed her cheek and lifted some strands of hair, fluttering them to and fro. The wind out on the mountains whipped trees sideways and blew snow every which way. The unrealistic, dreaming side of her wanted to throw herself from the railing if only to be nearer the mountains.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Leia's voice came from beside her. None of the siblings had the power to startle each other.

Cordé only nodded silently.

"I could live here," the older sister admitted. "Looking at this every day wouldn't get old, I think."

"Yeah . . ." Cordé agreed. Then she smiled. "What would it be like, living as royalty? Having three meals a day, wearing all those fancy dresses? I almost envy Rahya."

"Almost," Leia agreed.

They had been introduced to Princess Rahya upon reaching the outer courts of the Alderaanian Palace. She was the daughter of King Bail and Queen Breha. With her darker complexion and striking figure, she, like her father, was rather intimidating, despite being only a year younger than Leia herself.

"I wouldn't be able to be tied down like her," Leia admitted. "I would have to do _something_ other than just being a princess. I think I would need some purpose in life."

"Getting ready to be the next queen wouldn't be enough?"

Leia shook her head. "I think I would need something else to do. I don't know."

"I would like it," Cordé mused. "Being Queen . . ."

Suddenly, Luke appeared. "Come on," he announced, "The royal family is ready to see us."

* * *

.

.

 **Please let me know what you thought! As you can see, the plot is going to be similar to - but will definitely not follow exactly - the plot of A New Hope. I have some future stuff planned, which will definitely expand and end differently.**

 **Also, tell me where you guys think I should take it in general! Ideas for characters you'd like to see, plot holes you'd like to see filled, etc. This will probably end up being about a 25- to 30-chapter fic if I pace it right. Input is extremely welcomed and helpful as I continue this journey!**

 **Thank you all so much for reading. :) Please drop a review on your way out!**

 **Until next time...**


	9. Chapter 8

**(A/N) Hey, everyone! Happy Friday! Hope you're all doing well :D**

 **I love this chapter, personally. There's lots of good info and backstory. I hope you all like it as much as I do!**

 **And yeah, I finally have a short author's note! How about that? :) Can't keep you waiting too long after a full week without updating :)**

 **Anyway, here we go!**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 8**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

Imperial cells, Obi-Wan mused, were more comfortable than they used to be. He was accustomed to being trapped somehow, be it a force field, chains, or a giant arena with a few hungry, man-eating monsters. At least now he had a place to sit, lie down, or pace if he needed.

"What do you think he plans to do with us?" Padmé's tired voice broke the silence.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "But if he's as predictable as he used to be, he'll get whatever information he can from us, then get angry when he realizes we won't speak . . . Then, I don't know."

She nodded.

For a long time, they both tried _not_ to think about the monster that used to be their dearest friend.

"I knew this would happen," Padmé stated, without a single ounce of self-pity. "I just thought the children would be older."

He knew what she meant. Their capture had been inevitable. Four Force-sensitive beings (trained, no less) on one planet would have been enough to attract anyone's attention. It was a miracle they stayed hidden for so long.

"They are far old enough to take care of themselves," Obi-Wan assured her. "Yes, Leia is still headstrong and rambunctious—"

" . . . Just like her father," Padmé allowed herself half a grin at that.

He smiled. "Yes, like Anakin. But she is also reasonable and diplomatic, like you. And Luke would never leave his sisters' sides. He is very responsible, and wise for his years. You know I've done all I can to teach him of the real world so he wouldn't be naïve or clueless if this ever happened. He is an extremely driven, dutiful young man. He will be fine."

"Cordé must be so frightened," she added.

Obi-Wan smiled. "She has her siblings," he reassured. "And she has the Force. She is more mature than we could imagine. See? They will be just fine."

Padmé furrowed her brow. "I hope you're right."

* * *

 _"The clouds on Coruscant come down to touch the buildings sometimes," Obi-Wan murmured. "When the sun sets, it looks like an ocean . . . A great yellow, red, and silver ocean. Maybe I shall take you there sometime. We can stop at Naboo and swim in all the wide lakes . . ."_

 _A light snore interrupted his storytelling. He glanced up. Padmé had fallen against a pillow, her mouth slightly open as she dozed. He chuckled, then planted a soft kiss on her pregnant belly. "Until next time, Cordé."_

 _He closed the door gently behind him and crept to the living area. Since they had moved in nearly four years ago, the house had nearly doubled in size. He worked on it when he wasn't working at the shop, and when time allowed, their neighbors, Tahyo and Brigit, helped. The house now sported a sitting room with exactly one couch that fit exactly two people. The kitchen had a countertop, along with the old table, and two extra chairs had been added to the window, and the dining table comfortably seated four. The main bedroom was now large enough to fit a double-sized mattress, and another room was added to accommodate two more people. He already started thinking of ways to be sure one more person had room in this crowded dwelling._

 _"Papa," a small voice called. Obi-Wan turned to see two tiny figures trotting in from the front door._

 _"We're hungry," Leia announced._

 _The twins were allowed one snack per day, along with two meals. He absolutely hated it, but they were not exactly rich. However, the bushes behind the house were always full of berries and nuts. Even at three, the children knew which were edible and which never to touch._

 _"Have the bushes lost their berries?" he questioned._

 _"I don't like berries anymore," Luke complained._

 _Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, then seated himself on the couch and beckoned to the children, who ran and jumped on either side of him. Luke laid his tiny blond head on his father's ribcage, while Leia hugged her knees and rested her back at the end of the couch._

 _"What have I told you," he reprimanded, "about saying that?"_

 _"Be grateful for what you have," Luke said, repeating the well-known saying._

 _"Exactly. And when you say 'I don't like it,' what are you doing?"_

 _"Not being grateful," the boy answered._

 _"Correct," Obi-Wan nodded. He glanced at Leia. "We all have to do things we would rather not. That includes eating nuts and berries when you're hungry instead of something from inside. You both know the rules."_

 _The twins nodded._

 _"Good," he finished. "Because earlier, Brigit came over with a jug of fresh cream."_

 _The children's eyes opened wide and smiles lit their little faces._

 _"So," their father continued, "if you can gather as many berries as you can, I believe I have a treat for you." He winked, and they scrambled away, already chattering and playing._

 _Rules should be followed, he mused. But sometimes it was healthy to make small exceptions._

* * *

"Your father—Anakin—was a great man," Bail said, settling himself into a long, white sofa. The three children lounged on seats opposite him, while Queen Breha and Princess Rahya sat on either side of the two, forming a rectangle.

Alderaanian royalty, Leia noticed, was very casual—quite the opposite of the videos of Imperial procedures she'd seen from Dantooine. The family was very soft-spoken and kind with their servants and subjects. They never threatened, pushed, or frightened, unlike the Empire.

"I was never good friends with him," the king continued, "but I'd spoken with him often, and he seemed very reliable. There was this . . . aura . . . to him, too. Being around him, I could sense how powerful he really was. He was also playful, and liked to crack jokes," Bail reminisced, seemingly lost in the past.

Suddenly he leaned forward, grinning. "I hope you all know how incredible of a queen your mother was."

Leia had to blink, then clear her throat. "Excuse me, _queen?_ "

Bail tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "You don't know . . ."

"Mother kept her whole life a secret from us," Luke explained. "All we know is her real name is Padmé, and she has a sister, Sola, and two nieces. Father—or, Obi-Wan—too. We knew he was a Jedi, but that was all."

"Well . . ." The king leaned back in his seat. "Your mother was Queen of Naboo. She was the youngest queen ever elected, at only thirteen. She led her people fearlessly, through the trials of a Separatist blockade, then managed to vote Chancellor Valorum out of his seat." He smiled. "I remember finding out she was pregnant with you two," he motioned toward the twins. "She did her best to keep it a secret, but some things can't be hidden."

"Why was it a secret?" Cordé asked softly.

"Oh, I'm not entirely sure," the king admitted. "But I believe part of being a Jedi required that the Jedi never form attachments. No marriage, no children. Your parents were married in secret, for fear of your father being expelled from the Jedi Order. At least, that's what Obi-Wan told me."

The room was quiet for a long time.

"It's a lot to take in, I know," Breha's soft voice broke the silence. "But knowing all this is important if you are to find your parents."

Luke's jaw clenched. The only thing he wanted to do at that moment was run out of the room, find a ship, and search every corner of the galaxy. The girls could stay here. They would be safe with the royal family . . .

 _"Keep your sisters safe, and don't leave them, you hear me? He told me that was most important above all."_ Tahyo's voice interrupted Luke's thoughts. He clenched his jaw again in resignation. Wherever he went, his sisters would come with.

* * *

Vader had expected to see Padmé . . . and yet, he hadn't. When an Imperial shuttle had reported that they found a man and woman on Dantooine that matched Vader's descriptions, it had almost been too good to be true. He'd been hunting and searching for his former master and wife for over sixteen years. _Of course, Dantooine_ , he berated himself. He had his men search Tatooine once, wondering if they had been stupid enough to stay with his brother in the very same city in which he grew up.

When that search found nothing, he moved to Naboo. Padmé had always loved the planet. Of course, he doubted they hid there, since the choice of dwelling would not have been exactly inconspicuous.

But of course they chose Dantooine. As an Outer Rim planet, it had next to no contact with the Core worlds. A supply ship came twice a year. Holonet content was severely limited, and for all Coruscant was concerned, Dantooine didn't exist.

Now, standing in a cell, in front of the two people he had loved the most, Vader found it difficult to concentrate. "How long have you been on Dantooine?"

Silence.

So he took a more generalized approach to questioning. "Where is the Rebel base?"

Still, silence reigned.

Fury overtook Vader's rational thoughts. He called his lightsaber from his belt and thrashed the wall, causing sparks to fly everywhere. "Speak," he shouted. "My patience has run out."

"No."

Finally, progress . . . but not the kind he hoped for.

"I will never tell you _anything,_ " Padmé continued. "Even after you almost killed me, I believed there was still good in you—that maybe a little piece of the old Anakin still lived inside you. But I saw what you'd done, what the Empire became, and I lost hope. You'll have to find someone else to talk, because if I thought you were even a _piece_ of the man you were, I _might_ have considered speaking."

Then she was silent once more.

Vader, for the first time in nearly his entire life, was speechless.

But he had one last question that couldn't be left unanswered.

"What happened to our child?"

He waited for nearly two minutes.

Then, Obi-Wan answered, "Gone."

* * *

 _Luke remembered the day Cordé was born. He was a week from turning four, and nothing could have been more devastating than acquiring yet another sister._

 _He remembered his mother and father speaking in hurried, hushed tones about the quality of medical care on Dantooine. His father's argument was that the other side of the planet had more advanced technology, but Mother insisted on staying at home and letting the village midwives care for her._

 _"Remember what happened with the twins?" Father whispered._

 _"My trachea was damaged! They were twins and premature. I was weak. This situation is entirely different!" Mother hissed._

 _And that was all Luke's ears picked up before Leia came barreling around the corner with some new toy she'd found._

 _Cordé's birth itself, he later learned, was relatively uneventful. Rather it was the situation around the day that made it interesting._

 _The day started out gray. Clouds hung low over the forest, and Luke's three-year-old heart was heavy. He'd felt that something exciting was supposed to happen that day, but the weather seemed insistent on making it dreary anyway. Nothing good ever happened on a cloudy day._

 _His mother fixed breakfast, as usual. No matter how short they were on food, she always held firm to her belief that breakfast was the most important meal. Luke remembered pushing his food around on his plate, despite being hungry. He simply could not eat._

 _"When is the baby coming?" he finally gave in. So much anticipation surrounded the arrival of the newest Kenobi, Luke nearly forgot about its being a girl._

 _Mother smiled. "When it comes."_

 _Leia, sensing her brother's uneasiness and frustration, announced, "I think it's coming today."_

 _Still smiling, Mother sat calmly across from her children and began to eat. "You never know," she admitted. "Could be anytime."_

 _"What could be anytime?" Father arrived and began scooping heaps of food into a bowl, but making sure enough was left that each family member could have another serving if they wished._

 _"The baby," Luke filled him in. "What if it's not a girl?"_

 _"Then you'll be in luck," Father joked. "But believe me, Luke. You'll have another sister before too long."_

 _"There's no such thing as luck," Leia insisted, causing Mother to nearly choke on her bantha milk._

 _"Where did you hear that?"_

 _The girl grinned. "Brigit told me. She said Gott doesn't make mistakes, and nothing is lucky."_

 _Father chuckled. "She is partly true. I don't believe in luck either." He patted her still-messy braids._

 _"But you believe in the Force," Luke clarified. "Not Gott."_

 _"I believe the natives interpreted the Force and created their own version of a higher power."_

 _Luke mulled that over. He decided he believed what Father said, because Father was always right and knew everything._

 _Suddenly, Mother let out a short gasp and doubled over in her chair. Father rushed to her side and placed a hand on her back. "Pad—Pooja?"_

 _"I'm alright," Mother assured him, her breathing suddenly strained and her voice shaking. "Better call Brigit and Getrud, though."_

 _Father nodded, and within about an hour, the twins were at Brigit and Tahyo's house._

 _Luke remembered those hours as the longest of his life. Brigit had told him that his sister was coming, but she didn't know how long it would be. The children had been sent over with nightclothes and a packed lunch. Getrud, the midwife, stayed with Mother and Father, but Brigit said, "I'm no midwife. I've helped with one birth before and it was the worst four hours of my life." But she said it with a kind smile, and kissed Mother's forehead before loading the children into the speeder._

 _Luke liked Getrud. She always had some tiny treat for him and Leia when she came to check on Mother. Once she brought little sticks made of some sort of hard, sweet, spicy substance. Mother called them "candy canes," and hugged Getrud, nearly in tears. According to Father, Getrud studied medicine on Coruscant, and spent a week there every other month. She always brought back interesting gadgets. Father always seemed wary of her, in a way, but she was trustworthy and an incredible midwife._

 _At Brigit's house, Tahyo took Luke into the garage to show him the upgrades he'd made on his speeder. Tahyo taught the boy all he knew about mechanics. Luke loved to hold all the heavy tools while the man worked, and he always compared Tahyo's teachings with his father's._

 _"Father said power co-cou . . ." Luke stammered, his tongue twisting on the big word._

 _"Couplings?" Tahyo finished, his voice echoing from under the speeder._

 _"Yeah. He said they're at-attach-ed before you turn them on," the boy finished proudly._

 _"Well," Tahyo grunted. "Tell your father he's very wise." He sat up, wincing and squeezing his sore finger. "Because one just zapped me."_

 _Luke giggled. "Papa knows EV-er-ything," he pronounced, stressing the first syllable._

 _The older man grinned. "I'm sure he does, son."_

 _It wasn't until the twins were fast asleep on the couch that the call came._

 _"How is she?" Brigit whispered frantically as soon as Ben's face appeared on the com. "Tired, I'd assume."_

 _He nodded. "But in good condition."_

 _"Oh, thank Gott," Brigit breathed. "And the baby?"_

 _Ben smiled. "You'll be excited to hear that she is alive."_

 _"This is no time for jokes," Tahyo berated, nearly crashing through the wall from the kitchen. "So it is a girl?!"_

 _The pure joy and love that emanated from Ben's face was enough to cause Brigit's eyes to well with tears. "Yes," he said. "A girl. Cordé, we called her. Bring the children, if you will. Padmé wishes to have them home again."_

 _"So soon?"_

 _Ben nodded. "She is tired, but feels fine. I will see you in a while." And with a final goodbye, his face disappeared._

 _The drive felt like years to the children, but finally they arrived home and nearly stampeded into the house. Father caught their hands and led them, quietly, into the back bedroom._

 _As soon as Luke saw his new sister, he wondered how he could ever have dreaded her arrival._

 _Leia immediately laid eyes on Cordé and asked, "Why is she so blue and wrinkly?"_

 _Mother laughed at that, but Luke's eyebrows drew together and his little mouth formed an "O" shape. Then he glared sternly at his twin. "Don't say that. She's not blue, she's perfect." He then proceeded to rest a small hand on Cordé's soft head and search her features attentively._

 _"Mama?" he whispered. "Can we keep her?"_

* * *

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.

 **There we go! Hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Let me know what you thought! I absolutely love hearing from you guys :)**

 **Until next week!**


	10. Chapter 9

**(A/N) Hi! Bet you thought I died or something... SORRY. I don't have an excuse except that I'm a terrible person and also my laptop is giving me crap about literally everything. So I have to use my desktop from now on, which is weird because all my files are on my laptop...**

 **ANYWAY. Because I feel so awful about it being so long, I combined chapters 9 and 10 into one MEGA chapter! :) (5,000 words is a chapter record for me- y'all should be grateful!)**

 **So, without further ado...**

 **ENJOY! :D**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 9**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

Leia thought things were going pretty well on Alderaan. Of course, there was that nagging, pulling, sick feeling in her gut that her parents were in danger. But other than that, staying in the royal palace wasn't exactly torture. They had a good place to rest, beds if they wanted to sleep, all the food they could eat, and a warm place to stay, not to mention the changes of clothes they'd been provided with. Upon feeling the fine fabrics, Cordé exclaimed, "They feel like clouds!" Indeed they did. Their old handwoven attire was a far cry from the silks and cashmeres of this planet.

But all three siblings knew, without a doubt, they couldn't stay on Alderaan for long.

"I don't know why," Leia admitted to her brother that afternoon, "but the Force is telling me to leave."

Luke nodded. "I feel it too. I don't think we should stay longer than another day or two."

They discussed matters with Bail, who agreed. "I may not be Force-sensitive," he sighed, "but it's a good idea. Your parents need you, in one way or another."

"All they said was to come here." Luke shook his head. "What were they thinking?"

"They thought you would be much younger, most likely . . . Have you thought about leaving Cordé with us? She would be safe."

Leia's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought about that."

"No," Luke insisted. "Father said that we needed to stay together, no matter what. I'm inclined to agree with him."

Bail nodded. "Alright, then I know what you need to do." He called Rahya and Cordé to the sitting room, checked the halls, closed and locked the doors, then seated himself in front of them. "Have you heard of the Rebellion?"

"Of course," Leia answered. "I don't know much, but we've heard some."

"I have contacts," Bail murmured. "I am one of the leading members, and my friend, Mon Mothma, is in charge of the rest. You will need to know these names, so please pay attention. General Nadeen and Admiral Ackbar are good, honest people. They knew your mother, and will help you." He beckoned to his daughter, who sat beside him. "Rahya."

She nodded.

"I trust you with my life. Don't let me down."

"I won't, Father."

The king glanced back up. "Rahya will take you to the Rebel base. She will assist you with anything you need, and help wherever she can. Obi-Wan and Padmé are valued, and we will do everything we can to get them back. I would go, myself, but my people are uneasy, and I think it best if I stayed to lead them." He stood again. "I will prepare what you need for your trip. When do you plan to leave?"

The three siblings glanced at each other, communicating silently.

"Tomorrow," Leia decided. "We'll rest and eat, then leave as soon as possible."

Bail nodded.

The evening turned to night, which fell into pitch blackness. Leia tossed and turned. The bed was too wide, too soft, and the room was too big. Tiny pinpricks of light streamed in from every crack. In their home on Dantooine, the only source of light at night was Father's tiny lamp, and the moons.

She missed Dantooine. She'd always wondered what it would be like to travel. As a child, the stars excited and frightened her. Mother had tried to explain how huge they were, and that each one had a system of planets. Of course, Leia didn't believe her, but the idea of seeing them anyway was enough to start her thinking about ways to leave when she was old enough.

. . . Then she became old enough. When she turned eighteen, her ties to her parents were, legally, gone. She could go anywhere, do anything, without fear of repercussions.

But she didn't want to.

With all the talk of Luke leaving, she realized that she had never expressed her thoughts. She realized that her family didn't _expect_ her to stay, they _needed_ her to stay. In a way, she sensed that, subconsciously, and decided that if she stayed, then Luke should, too. It would kill her to have her twin gone, and she didn't want to live on Dantooine without him . . . but she wanted to live on Dantooine. She wanted to take care of her parents as they aged, and she wanted to be around for Cordé as she grew up.

But most of all, she realized that she wanted to raise a family there.

Up until around age seventeen, she'd been convinced that she never wanted to have children, or even marry. Every time she went to the village, all the rude men discouraged her from ever wanting to be associated with one.

 _"You'll find a good, kind one soon. Just give it time,"_ her mother had encouraged her. But Leia didn't think so. She wished she could find a young man who had the values and integrity of her father. But on Dantooine, that would be the same as finding a needle in a haystack.

But her feelings changed on the matter as she matured.

Now she really realized, for the first time, how much she missed Dantooine. She missed her parents. She missed Tahyo and Brigit. She missed the safety her little home provided.

A feeling in her gut interrupted her thoughts. She grinned. It was the Force, being prodded gently around her. She pushed back playfully, and it subsided. A few moments later, her door slid silently open and a light flickered on. Luke crept through the dark, trying not to trip on chairs or decorations.

The sight reminded her of being a small child, when she and her twin still shared a room. Luke was always clumsy when he was younger, and would always trip over anything that was even remotely in his path when it was dark.

"Why are you still awake?" Leia hissed.

Her brother nearly threw himself onto the open side of her too-wide bed. "I could ask you the same thing."

Leia sighed.

"You miss Mother and Father?" her brother questioned.

She shrugged.

Luke nodded, slumping his shoulders. "I do. I worry about them . . . I didn't know the galaxy was so big . . . They could be anywhere."

"Can you sense them?"

She hated to admit it, but Luke was more accomplished in Force using than she could ever hope to be. In mind tricks and saber fighting, they were equally matched. But Luke excelled in nearly every other area, whereas Leia had trouble controlling whatever power she contained. Father had not been able to train her correctly, since her learning style very closely matched, apparently, that of Anakin's. Obi-Wan was afraid of a repeat of what happened with his old apprentice, and therefore was far more cautious around Leia than Luke. Because of that, his training of her was more inefficient.

Luke was more direct and focused, and had a knack for sensing where people were, and whether or not they were in any kind of danger.

"Only a bit," he admitted, closing his eyes in concentration. "I know they're alive. But . . . they're . . . scared. There's something dark around them . . . I can't see past it." His eyes flew open, and in them Leia saw pure terror.

"Vader," he hissed. "Darth Vader is keeping them prisoner."

* * *

Luke couldn't shake that dark, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't slept that night. He'd insisted that Leia get some rest, and she dozed off occasionally, but Luke paced all night long.

He knew, from what Father told them, that Darth Vader was his biological father. But it seemed unreal. He refused to believe it. He wanted to take his sisters and run away. They couldn't go back to Dantooine. The Empire had already found their parents there. They couldn't stay on Alderaan. It was too populated, and too connected to the Core worlds.

Finally the sun began making its appearance, and it was then that Luke sat down heavily. He buried his head in his hands and wondered what he was supposed to do. There was no good option. He knew he had the skills to at least attempt at rescuing his parents, but he had only one clue as to where they were . . . but Darth Vader had probably hundreds of prisons around the galaxy. Luke hardly had any experience as a pilot, and even less with espionage and combat. On the other hand, there was nowhere to run. And even if they did run, they would never know what became of their parents. That was simply not an option.

Bail had said that the Rebellion would help, but the Force was telling Luke—no, screaming at him—not to go to them. It would destroy everything they had ever fought for, that much he was sure of.

A soft tap at the door interrupted his thoughts. He went to open it, glancing behind him to be sure Leia was still asleep.

"Rahya!" Luke whispered.

The princess glanced around the corridor nervously, then hissed, "We have to leave right now."

"Why?" His brow furrowed.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just know we do. Get your sisters and meet me in hangar bay 18 in exactly thirty minutes." Then she was gone.

The next half hour was a whirlwind. Each child had been provided with a closet full of clothes in their size, so gear wasn't an issue. Luke felt awkward and unfamiliar in the soft fabric, but he chose the most durable-looking clothes he could find, and kept his old utility belt, from which hung Anakin's lightsaber.

Cordé dressed similarly, her father's saber dangling from a thin leather belt over her black trousers and gray tunic. Leia decided on an off-white jumpsuit and a sturdy black holster for her blaster. Both girls had no-nonsense braids done up in the typical Dantooine style.

Bail met them halfway down the corridor to bid them farewell and offer last-minute instructions.

"Be brave," he ordered. "And stay together."

The three bowed in respect, as their father had taught them, and the king returned the motion. Then the door behind them slid open, and they walked through . . . to see the most surprising sight of the day.

The Millennium Falcon stood docked in hangar bay 18, and none other than Han Solo and Chewbacca sat against the boarding ramp.

* * *

Vader knew something was wrong. He was never foolish enough to believe that they would tell him the whole truth, but he never expected Obi-Wan to blatantly lie to his face.

He knew his child was alive. He didn't know whether or not it was a boy or girl, he didn't know where it was, what it was doing, anything . . . but he knew without a doubt that it was, in fact, alive. Just as he'd known Padmé was alive. Of course, that took longer for him to sense, because as it turned out, Padmé was not Force-sensitive in the least. It had always been more difficult to sense her presence. But he was completely sure that his child was Force-sensitive. There was simply no question about that.

And for some reason, his troops hadn't found it on Dantooine.

He stood, suddenly furious. "Captain!" he bellowed.

Captain Piett came, nearly scurrying, across the few rooms separating himself and Vader.

"Yes, my lord?" he questioned, inclining his head quickly.

"Who led the mission on Dantooine?"

The Captain checked his records. "Sergeant Neita, sir."

"Bring him to me, immediately."

Only ten minutes later, Sergeant Neita and Captain Piett stood stiffly at attention in front of Vader. Both had their hands clasped tightly behind their backs, and both tried too hard to elevate their chins. Neita was almost amusingly short in stature, but made up for it in frightening amounts of muscle mass. Piett's build was the exact opposite.

"Neita," Darth Vader began, sensing the man's stone-cold demeanor. It would take much to get through to him. "I hear you were the one who brought me my prisoners."

"Yes, my lord," the sergeant nodded.

Vader's voice became dangerously calm—that terrifying calm before the storm. "Did you check the house after capturing them?"

"Yes, my lord. My men scanned the house and surrounding area. No signs of life were present."

 _Strange . . ._ Vader paced faster. "You didn't find another person?"

"No, sir."

With a swift turn and a _swish_ of his cape, Darth Vader strode away.

* * *

 _"Ben! Luke, Leia!" Padmé called. "Where are you?"_

 _Footsteps rushed toward her, and her husband appeared. "Shh," he reprimanded with a finger to his lips. "I've just put the twins down to rest."_

 _Padmé sighed in relief. "You're a lifesaver." At three, Luke and Leia were the ultimate mischief-makers. They had seemingly limitless energy, which they had trouble channeling into the right places. It was a rare time when they used enough of the energy up to actually calm down and nap for a while._

 _She collapsed onto the sitting room couch, her few groceries removed from her hands by Obi-Wan and placed in the kitchen. "Have I ever mentioned I hate going into town?"_

 _He smirked. "No, why?"_

 _Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, and the world seemed to echo and reverberate around her. The blessed darkness enveloped her, and for a moment, she felt completely at peace . . ._

 _"Padmé," Obi-Wan's soft voice pulled her out of her near-sleeping state._

 _"Hm?"_

 _"Might I speak with you about something?"_

 _She nodded and made room on the couch beside herself. But he had no intention of sitting. His eyes were focused intently on his boots, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed._

 _"I've been thinking," he began, "and . . . well, I'm . . ." He glanced up to meet her eyes. "I'm not quite sure how to put it, but I've been second-guessing my decision to train the children . . . And this may not be the best time to talk in depth about it, but I've been considering . . . well, finding another place to stay."_

 _It took Padmé a full minute to process what he'd just said. "Wait," she clarified, "you mean just you? Leaving us here?"_

 _"I would still financially support you, of course," he rushed, "but I would probably build myself a hut on the other side of town . . . maybe farther."_

 _The room was eerily silent as Padmé tried to discern whether or not he was serious._

 _"Why?!" she finally exclaimed, rising to march to his side. "What benefit do you see in that?"_

 _"Space for you and the children." He seemed to grind the words as they came spilling from his lips, every so quietly. "A growing family needs privacy . . . A place to be alone, without interference."_

 _She stared up at him, absolutely incredulous. "You're not serious."_

 _He didn't speak._

 _But she was not finished. "Obi-Wan! The children need you! I can't raise twins on my own!"_

 _"Yes you can," he insisted. "You are strong."_

 _"Strong or not, they need a father. I was sure Anakin would be that for them, but he's not, so you're the closest thing they have to one! You can't just leave! We need you."_

 _The pure emotion that emanated from his very presence was enough to send Padmé reeling. "I don't deserve to be their father, Padmé. Not after . . ." His head fell again._

 _She knew what he meant. The last time he'd played father-figure to someone (a Skywalker, no less), it hadn't exactly turned out well._

 _He may have lost hope, but giving up was simply not in Padmé's nature._

 _"No," she stated simply. "What happened to Anakin was in absolutely no way your fault. I don't want a repeat of him either, but his situation was completely different than the twins'! And, you said yourself that you learned from your mistakes."_

 _His jaw clenched. "I honestly think it's best for you and the ch—"_

 _"Stop it!" She wanted to slap him. Heat boiled up in her chest, rising to her throat, and exited like flaming darts. "If you really wanted what was best for the children, you would stay here and help me raise them! Do you want to know how important a father is? My nieces don't have one. He died a week after Pooja was born. My sister, Sola, had to raise them completely on her own. She wishes every day that she could give them one. The closest thing they have to a father is their grandfather, and he's too busy being a grandfather and having a life to take care of them. Luke, especially, will need someone to look up to—to be a model for him. Someone trustworthy, with good morals. Everyone needs a father-figure. Anakin found one in you, and later Palpatine. Even you found one in Qui-Gon. You're being ridiculous and immature, Obi-Wan, and this needs to stop. I don't care if you train them or not. That's up to you. But the children need you with them." She finally paused, then took a deep breath and let it go. "I need you. Here. With me. You're all I have left . . ."_

 _And suddenly, she couldn't see. Her vision clouded, and hot tears fell, one by one, down her cheeks. She raised a trembling hand to wipe them away._

 _She hated feeling vulnerable. She hadn't meant to say that last part. But it was true . . . Obi-Wan was the last connection she had to her old life. The twins were part of her new life . . . but she had known Obi-Wan since her time as a young queen on Naboo. He was her last tie to that era._

 _And when he brushed her face with his thumb and enveloped her in his arms, she realized that if he left, not only would the twins lose a very important person, but she would most likely be driven to insanity. She needed him to stay with her. For a moment, the thought of her children escaped her mind and she knew only of her need. She had never felt a need like this—not even when married to Anakin. Every part of her being screamed that this man—the man she clung to and drew comfort from—never leave, even if it were just out of her every-day life._

 _She didn't know how she would continue without him._

 _"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair, holding her small frame as close to himself as possible. "I'm sorry . . ."_

 _That statement meant more than she knew._

 _He had been afraid . . . afraid of the twins and what they might become. Afraid of hiding from the Empire._

 _Afraid of loving Padmé._

 _He had wanted to put it all behind him. He didn't want to see her every day if he couldn't continue to love her. He didn't want to train the twins if they would only grow up to betray all the people they held dear. He couldn't stay with them if he didn't want a repeat of what happened with Anakin._

 _He'd had it all planned out. He would gently separate himself from this family and spend his days apart from them. They were settled in . . . they didn't need him anymore, he reasoned._

 _But he had not counted on Padmé's vehement response._

 _As a Jedi, forming attachments was forbidden. Therefore, no one ever became attached to him. Of course, Anakin was an exception. But even he had already formed stronger attachments to people other than his master._

 _Obi-Wan was not accustomed to being wanted . . . or needed. He was supposed to live a solitary, secluded life . . . Even if it meant giving up that which was most important to him._

 _But now, he wondered how he could even have considered it._

 _Part of being a Jedi meant being completely selfless. He supposed his reasons for wanting to move out were selfish. But his reasons for wanting to stay were probably equally selfish._

 _"I'm sorry," he repeated. He was sorry he even proposed the idea. He was sorry he drove Padmé to tears. He was sorry for being selfish. He was sorry that he couldn't have done more to save Anakin. He was sorry that this woman had gone through so much in her short life . . ._

 _He lost track of the amount of time they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace._

 _Finally he released his arms and brought his hands up to stroke each side of Padmé's face. Her eyes were red, her cheeks damp with tears._

 _"Will you stay?" she whispered, resting her forehead against his._

 _For a moment, he simply stood and took in the emotion in her eyes. She was pleading with him, begging him. What could he do but concede? "Is it really what you want?"_

 _She never answered the question. Instead she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair . . . then drew herself up on tip-toe and kissed him for all she was worth._

.

* * *

.

"So, why'd you come back?"

The lounge area of the Millennium Falcon was full. Han Solo didn't remember a time when it was this crowded. The droids rested in the corner, Cordé, Leia, and Chewbacca took up the couch, Han's coveted chair was occupied by Princess Rahya, and the two human men sat against one of the walls, on the floor, trying to maintain some sense of dignity.

Leia, surprisingly, had been the one to ask.

Han smirked. "I guess you needed a fast ship. They called me, I answered. Simple as that." In truth, it was not that simple. In short, it involved persuasion, pleading, and even bribery after his relaxing night on the one planet in all the near systems on which he had no price on his head.

He caught Rahya rolling her eyes, since she had been the one to call him.

The room lapsed into blessed silence again.

The trip was about seven hours long. Tatooine was their destination, of all places. Princess Rahya hadn't explained exactly why it was so important . . . In fact, the princess didn't say much at all. None of them did, now that Han thought about it. It was a quiet bunch. Even the obnoxious golden droid was halfway powered down to conserve energy.

Finally, Cordé voiced what they all wondered: "Why Tatooine?"

The princess clenched her jaw and considered for a moment. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, and seemed to chisel into Han's very soul. At length, she relented.

"Have any of you heard of the Death Star?"

The three Kenobis shook their heads, brows furrowing. Han stared at the floor, then nodded. "Super-destructive space station," he muttered. "Seen it a few times on a holo. Never up close or personal, though."

Chewie growled. "Thankfully," the wookiee added.

"Right," Rahya affirmed. "The Rebellion has been tracking it for years. It was just revealed to be operational . . . It destroyed half of Jedha and Scarif . . . We don't know what else it's capable of."

The room was eerily silent.

"A group of rebels," Rahya continued, "infiltrated an Imperial base on Scarif, about three days ago." Her jaw clenched again, and a dangerous crease formed between her brows. "We now have the Death Star plans, in the memory systems of a droid on Tatooine. Getting those back is my priority right now, and once we have the upper hand on the Empire, we'll be able to rescue your parents."

* * *

They hadn't been moved in a few days . . . but Padmé was beginning to lose track of time. Was it a few days or a week? Or just one day? She didn't know.

The cold, hard steel under her bare arms gave her chills . . . and the thin fabric on her back did little to help. She debated sitting up, but that would likely be equally cold, given the stale, recycled air of the station. She screwed her eyes shut, and tried to imagine her children, safe on Alderaan in the hands of royalty. She didn't have the Force, but nevertheless she tried to send positive thoughts their way . . . encouragements, and all the love she had for them.

A large, warm surface suddenly covered her, and her eyes blinked open. A rough, work-worn hand stroked her cheek, and Obi-Wan knelt in front of the sorry excuse for a bed. She smiled in thanks and wrapped his cloak more snugly around her shivering frame.

"Are you alright?" her husband murmured, seating himself on the floor below her.

"Just cold," she admitted. "What is this place, do you think?"

He considered for a moment. "A mobile station, most likely. Hyperspace has a certain feel to it, if you take my meaning."

She nodded. Hyperspace had a distinct feel . . . almost as if you were floating, yet tied down to the ship at the same time. "It's big for a mobile station, though."

"I don't know exactly how large it is. Could be a planetary base . . . who knows?"

"Have you thought about getting out?"

His brow furrowed, and he bowed his head. "Yes. I've run through options . . . But," he looked up into the endless depths of her eyes and tried to make her understand, "there seems to be no good way. Whatever we do, Vader will sense it and come after us. He is too powerful, and I'm too old for this sort of thing. He may be limited, but I don't know what power he still holds. It is too much of a risk."

"Staying here is a risk, too," Padmé insisted. "They could kill us at any time."

"I know. But I don't believe he'll allow it."

* * *

 _The one defining moment in which Obi-Wan realized he finally fit into the role of father to the twins occurred one day when the family decided to take the trip to town for supplies._

 _It was a hot day . . . Hot enough for little Cordé to be uncovered, and for Luke's thin blond hair to be plastered to his forehead. The twins were, as always, full of boundless energy, and Padmé worried that they would be sick from heatstroke by running around all day. So Obi-Wan strapped the children into the back of the speeder, while he drove, and Padmé held Cordé, who was only one standard month old, on her lap._

 _Town, as the people called it, could hardly be classified as such. It consisted of about five ramshackle buildings, nearly shoved together into a line, with the woods behind them and a dirt trail ahead. Various houses were scattered in the distance. All-in-all, the sight was less than enjoyable. However, on good days, it bustled and thrived like a good town should, as all the farmers and ranchers came for entertainment in the cantina or supplies in the other four shops. The livery was combined with the general store, on the far west end, and the owner always had time for everyone._

 _"Kenobi!" Matheo exclaimed as Obi-Wan strode through the doors, the twins on each hand and Padmé behind him, carrying Cordé in a makeshift front-pack. "Grüß dich!" the store-owner greeted in the native language._

 _"Grüß dich," Obi-Wan answered, grinning._

 _"Ach, how your children have grown," Matheo commented. "Beautiful family you have here."_

 _This kind of exchange was common in Ergesdorf, the town. The people put high value on children, in such a poor area._

 _"Danke," Obi-Wan inclined his head in thanks, feeling more than seeing Padmé step up beside him._

 _Matheo's eyes caught sight of the baby sleeping in her arms, and his thin, drawn old face instantly lit up like a sun. "Ben! You did not tell me of this one!"_

 _Padmé laughed. "She's new." Her eyes caught her husband's, and they grinned like a pair of high school sweethearts. "Her name is Cordé," she continued, stroking her daughter's soft hair and turning to show the store-keeper her little face._

 _"Beautiful," he exclaimed. "Simply beautiful. You must be proud parents." He shook his head in wonder._

 _"That we are," Obi-Wan murmured. He felt the shift in Padmé's attitude, and immediately straightened up to face Matheo. "So, now to business," he announced, a small grin still on his lips._

 _After about an hour, he'd acquired what he needed to keep the house running properly and the cooling unit stocked._

 _When finished with Matheo's store, he sent Padmé to the speeder with a hungry, crying Cordé, and he and the twins made their way down the street . . ._

 _. . . When, suddenly, Obi-Wan realized that he no longer held onto the twin's hands. His mind instantly shifted into high-alert, and he whipped around to see if they stepped back a few paces . . . but the four-year-olds were nowhere in sight._

 _He could feel the small lights of their presences, and the slight shifts in the Force that told him they were around, but he could not tell where. He brought a sleeve up to dry his forehead and remove the plastered hair, and tried to clear his mind enough to pinpoint their locations._

 _"Blast it," he muttered, quickly feeling a sort of frantic nervousness he'd never experienced in all his years of life. Being a Jedi taught one next to nothing about parenting. "Luke!" he called. "Leia?"_

 _No answer._

 _They wouldn't have gone back to the speeder, he reasoned. They loved town, and especially looked forward to seeing Getrud again. He scanned every inch of the street, and jogged back the way he came to scrutinize the woods. There were no alleys, thank goodness, since the five buildings had maybe an inch of space between each. Then he stopped, and listened intently. They had a very distinctive type of shout that he heard every day, all day long in the house. But, again, nothing._

 _"What in all the galaxy . . ." he wondered. They were just there. He'd had them by the hands, and then the next moment, they completely vanished. He hoped against hope that they hadn't used the Force to cloak themselves, which was entirely possible once one learned the technique._

 _Suddenly, he heard a very familiar giggle, followed by a louder, more forceful laugh. He took a deep breath. They were close. He whirled toward the sound . . . and shouted, not in relief, but fear._

 _The twins had reappeared, squatting in the middle of the small street, apparently enamored with something on the dirt path . . . as a low-lying speeder, flying through the woods, tore around the corner . . . straight toward the children, exactly level with their heads._

 _The world seemed to slow, as the speeder's driver continued to be oblivious to the small figures directly in his path._

 _Without thinking, Obi-Wan dove into the street, extended both hands, then simultaneously curled his body around the children and violently Force-pushed the speeder into the woods on the opposite side of the street. It seemed so slow, he felt as if he'd been sitting over the twins for a minute before Leia finally shrieked, and the speeder careened sideways, blowing dust as it stopped._

 _Obi-Wan scooped up the children and sat heavily on the boardwalk. Their eyes were wide as they realized what had happened. Then Leia buried her face in her father's side and sobbed. Luke clung to his other arm, shivering and whimpering. Obi-Wan held them close to his chest and bowed his head to rest his cheek against his son's soft hair._

* * *

"You're crazy!" Leia exclaimed, leaping to her feet.

Luke's head swung around from a thoughtful pose to one of concern and surprise.

Immediately Princess Rahya's eyes became steely and defensive. "Do you want the Empire to win?" Her voice was deadly calm. "We need those plans to destroy the base, and _then_ we can help your parents. Otherwise, who knows? Whole planets could be destroyed, then billions of people would die."

To Luke, the princess didn't seem her age. According to Bail, she was only seventeen, but she was far, far more mature than her age suggested. She held the wisdom of ancient queens in her eyes, and every thought and word of hers was well-thought-through and precise.

"This," Leia continued, her voice rising dangerously high, " _this_ was our mission. We asked for your help to complete it, and you agreed. We didn't ask you to go on some nerf-herding crusade and just throw us to the sidelines!"

At that, Luke sprung to his feet. "Leia!" he berated before Rahya could respond. "Calm down. We can talk about this."

"I am talking about it." She clenched her jaw. "She has no right—"

She was interrupted by, of all things, a sniffle.

Luke spun on his heel to face Cordé, who had her head bowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap . . .

The twins shared a worried, almost terrified look. Cordé never cried. Since she learned how to talk, she would express her needs with words, of which she was very proud. When she stubbed her toe or fell as a child, she would whimper, but stand back up and valiantly continue. True, she often showed intense emotions—she may have been the most sensitive in the family—but neither of them had seen her cry in about the last three years.

Leia strode out of the room, but not without laying a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. Luke knew that when riled, the only way for her to calm down was to separate herself from people. And she didn't want to cause Cordé any more stress. Rahya did the same, wandering down the hallway and seating herself just out of sight.

Chewie and Han looked on this whole time, speechless for once.

With a sigh, Luke took Leia's seat beside his little sister, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his side, her small frame shivering with contained emotion.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, rubbing her back.

She nodded . . . paused . . . then shook her head. "I miss them," she admitted.

But it went deeper than that, he knew. It was not simply being away from them that bothered her. It was the fact that she had never left her home planet, that the galaxy was huge, and that they had no clue as to where their parents were . . . or even if they did find them, if they could escape and go home.

"Me too," he whispered, glancing up and noticing that Han and Chewie had retreated to the cockpit. "But remember what Father always taught us. Trust the Force . . . no matter what."

At that, she raised a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "It's so hard, though."

"I know," Luke conceded. "Just try. And you can know that I do, so borrow my trust. Trust that I know that the Force won't lead us astray, and it'll guide us wherever we go. Can you do that?"

She paused, then nodded.

"Good." He gave her a comforting squeeze. "And I know they're safe, alright? Right now, they're safe."

* * *

.

.

 **Woo! How was that for a mega chapter?! Lots of stuff going on- I'm super excited about where this is headed :)**

 **A huge THANK YOU to all of you who have stuck with me this long, you know who you are!**

 **I promise, I'll to my very best to stick with a regular schedule, but I do need to keep writing a good amount before I post, otherwise I stress too much and it's not worth it. But if I can stay ahead of my updates, we should be good :)**

 **Hope you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for more next week, and in the meantime, tell me what you thought!**

 **Until next time :)**


	11. Chapter 10

**(A/N) Hey guys! Wow. I feel so terrible about this... When I started this story, I promised myself I wouldn't give up on y'all, and look at me now. Don't worry, I haven't given up all the way, but with my job and school and the end of the spring semester... Well, let's just say my life got sort of out of hand.**

 **SO. I'm still updating for now. A brief, official hiatus MIGHT be necessary later, but I'll write as much as I can, when I can, and we'll see how it works.**

 **I really hope you guys haven't lost interest! I really feel like this chapter in particular gives that last, much-needed piece of information about Padme and Obi-Wan's relationship that I know most of you have been doubting. Trust me, it's not as weird and far-fetched as it seems!**

 **Anyway, we'll get right into it :)**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **Chapter 10**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

Luke disliked Tatooine immediately. The moment he stepped off the boarding ramp of the Falcon, the heat seemed to punch him hard in the gut. Dantooine had hot days, but nothing like this. His home planet was forested for the most part, so the heat was humid, while this foreign planet sucked all the moisture straight out of the air, leaving his mouth feeling dry and his lips parched. The sun seemed to burn right through his shirt into his shoulders. Immediately he wondered what possessed these humans to settle here.

Princess Rahya threw a poncho over her head and turned to the group. "Follow my lead," she commanded, then turned into the hallway.

Falling into step beside her brother, Leia fingered her blaster. "I don't like it," she admitted.

Luke nodded. "Does she know what she's looking for?"

"I hope so."

The walk was relatively quiet for a while. Han and Chewbacca had stayed in the ship, insisting that they didn't "want any trouble." But Luke sensed an undercurrent of terror in the smuggler's voice. C-3PO had stayed with them, so only the slight whirr of R2-D2's wheels and the soft footsteps in the sand were the only noises.

That is, until the wall exploded.

The _crash_ caused everyone to scream and duck for cover as nearly twenty Imperial troops paraded from the opposite hallway. Blasterfire rained down from all sides, and Leia frantically shoved her siblings to the side with one hand, and returned the fire with her other. Luke's lightsaber was out in a flash, blocking bolts, here and there. Artoo squealed, and another astromech droid rammed into Cordé's legs, sending her sprawling into the sand, saber flung a few yards away. She scrambled to her feet, accidentally shoving Rahya into the wall as she tripped over the red droid. Luke and Leia formed a protective barrier around the two droids and girls, slashing and blasting the troops simultaneously.

But it was too much for them, and they fell against the wall as the shots finally died down.

"That droid," a stormtrooper bellowed. "Let it go." He motioned to the red astromech, which rocked on its legs, beeping and whistling frantically.

"No," Rahya replied, breathless but courageous.

The trooper, obviously the leader, raised his blaster, aiming directly at the princess . . . but Leia jumped in front of it . . .

"STOP!" Cordé's voice, suddenly furious, cut through the commotion. She raised a hand, three fingers extended. "You will put away your gun and leave us alone. This is _not . . ._ the droid you're looking for."

And the attitude suddenly shifted. The trooper holstered his blaster, and let his arms fall to his sides, his head moving up and backwards. "We will leave you alone. This is not the droid we're looking for."

Cordé didn't break focus. "Move along."

The trooper waved his hands and made room in the narrow alley. "Move along. Move along."

Only once the Imperials were out of sight did the group let out a unanimous breath. Rahya seemed shocked to the point of disbelief. "How did you do that?" she breathed.

The younger girl smirked. "The Force," she repeated her father's well-used phrase, "can have a strong influence on the weak-minded." She called her lightsaber to her hand and clipped it to her belt once again, Luke following suit.

The princess only shook her head, then knelt and beckoned to the red astromech droid. "R4-C5," she murmured. "Thank you."

"Is this the one?" Luke's eyes widened.

"That explains the troops," Leia muttered when Rahya nodded.

"They must have found out what he was carrying," she explained. Then her eyes widened as they landed on a small, cylindrical device on the droid's front plate. "When did you get a restraining bolt?" she questioned Ar-four.

The droid beeped and whistled, and she nodded. "Jawas. Disgusting creatures if you ask me."

The conversation between the princess and the droid continued, and in the end it was discovered that Ar-four couldn't retrieve the plans with the restraining bolt on, but was afraid that he would short-circuit with it off.

Rahya sat back on her heels and stared up at her companions. "Ideas would be nice."

Leia drew her eyebrows together. "Are the plans on a disk?"

Ar-four beeped in confirmation, causing Artoo to whistle happily. Leia smirked. "Exactly. We can remove the plans from R4-C5 and give them to Artoo. Then it's up to him whether or not he wants to remove the bolt."

"I wouldn't know how to do that," the princess admitted. Leia motioned to her brother, who nodded.

"It's pretty simple," Luke explained, kneeling beside Ar-four and opening a small door. "Artoo can access his internal memory without the bolt intervening, through the computer terminal here." He beckoned to the blue droid, who scooted forward and extended his plug. Once inserted, the terminal spun and dialed. When he finished, Luke opened another hatch. "See, now Artoo has the plans, and once I remove . . ." he grunted, finding resistance in the droid's wires, ". . . the hard disk, it'll be erased from his memory completely."

The disk was about a hand-breadth long, and half as wide. A small golden circle on one end glinted in the morning sun. Luke was afraid it would snap in his fingers, so he handed it to the princess. "Backup," he explained. "Keep it safe."

She nodded determinedly. "Thank you." Then a huge grin exploded on her face and she stood. "I can't believe it. We finally, finally have the upper hand."

* * *

"We have confirmation, my lord." Piett bowed swiftly. "The people you seek are on Tatooine. The princess Rahya of Alderaan is with them."

Darth Vader didn't turn from his view through the window.

He knew.

Piett's announcement was unneeded, because he could sense all the pieces of this galaxy-wide puzzle suddenly _click_ into place. His spy on Tatooine had seen the group, yes, but Vader already knew.

"Good." He crossed his arms. "Set course immediately."

"Yes, my lord."

It had been so long since he'd last seen the desert planet. He'd chased the Rebel ship above it, but hadn't actually seen the planet itself.

He hadn't personally set foot on it since . . . Since he called himself Anakin, and his mother . . .

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Vader basked in the fury that consumed him. He had been less in control since they caught Obi-Wan and Padmé. He needed control. He needed focus. Hate focused him. He embraced every ounce of anger and hate that came his way and milked it for all it was worth. Every time he laid eyes on his former master and wife, red-hot fury boiled up in his soul, threatening to drive him insane. It was all he could do to channel it how he always had before.

The Jedi tried to teach him to clear his mind, but even then he knew he had more precision in nearly everything when his mind became alive with the flurry of action.

It was when he felt most comfortable . . .

. . . Most himself.

* * *

None of the Kenobis felt certain that leaving Tatooine immediately was the best course of action.

Han, of course, insisted they "get the hell off this planet before they get fried by either the sun or Imperial blasters."

But Cordé knew what her siblings were thinking, because she felt it, too. The Force was pushing them to stay. She didn't know why. She never did.

Rahya believed it was all nonsense. She insisted they return to the Rebel base immediately.

"Why is everyone so stubborn?" she nearly shouted. "We have the plans, we have the upper hand, and now this ancient, mystical energy is telling you to stay here? It's ridiculous! Do you _want_ the Empire to win?!"

Cordé stared at the far wall of the Millennium Falcon, trying with all her might to clear her mind and focus. _Father,_ she called through the Force. _What am I to do? I'm still a child, and no one listens to a child. Tell me what to do._

Father always had an answer. Even if it was "I shall have to think on it," he always came back with an answer.

But she knew there would be no answer now.

She had no power over their decisions. Rahya was vehement and outspoken about it—a far cry from her first impressions on Alderaan. Leia was her usual self: fighting fire with fire, and pushing her limits while doing it. Luke, like normal, would add a comment or two here and there, but for the most part stayed silent, merely watching the girls battle it out. Han seemed to enjoy the sight at first, but grew more and more concerned with every word that was yelled, and even he soon joined in the argument. Threepio kept on shouting odds of this-and-that, and Artoo beeped and whistled, while the little red droid stood, rocking back and forth, whining.

Cordé desperately wanted everyone to just _shut up_ for a moment, so she could sort the situation out and explain her views . . . but that would be equivalent to stopping a forest fire with a bucket.

She screwed her eyes shut, listening to the words being bounced through the Falcon.

 _"You all are complete idiots—"_

 _"I don't care if this bucket gets shot down, I just—"_

 _". . . Odds of surviving a direct Imperial assault are approximately—"_

 _"Calm down? I'll show you to calm—"_

 _" . . . Sand-pit! It's a waste of time—"_

 _"The Rebellion is counting on me—"_

 _"I never said I hated the Rebellion! I just—"_

 _"I don't want any of this Force mumbo jumbo—"_

It was painful, listening to it.

Cordé's head pounded, and she felt almost weightless . . . as if she were spinning, very slowly . . .

Finally, she couldn't take it.

"STOP!" she jumped to her feet, Force-pushing a crate into the wall behind it. A _smack_ and a _bang_ echoed through the Falcon, and five pairs of eyes turned to her.

"You're all as bad as those storm troopers," she insisted. "I'd have to _mind trick_ you into shutting up for _one minute._ " She noticed Luke's eyebrows shoot upwards in appreciation.

"So," she continued, "could you all just listen to me?"

Silence.

"Good." She let out a long breath. "None of us hate the Rebellion. None of us like the Empire. We understand the importance of the plans, and we will help you if we need to. But," she turned to Rahya and Han, "I've been to three different planets in two days, when in fourteen years, I've only lived on one. I've basically flown across the galaxy to get here. Luke and Leia and I tried to tell you that the Force told _us_ something very specific. So, before you say anything against it, remember that for thousands of years, the Jedi were the guardians of _peace_ and _justice_ in the Old Republic. Everyone trusted them, because they trusted the Force. And the Force is telling us to _stay here._ Believe me, I don't want to stay here. I would rather go home to Dantooine, but I'm here now and I plan to stay here no matter what. Because my father taught me the ways of the old Jedi Order, and I know and trust the Force. It's as simple as that. And if you can't understand that, then you're a bunch of nerf-herders."

Rahya hurried forward and sat herself next to Cordé, her demeanor instantly shifting from argumentative to understanding, and her eyes welled with tears. "I'm sorry," she murmured, then moved her gaze around the room. "I understand. I promised my father that I wouldn't let him down . . . but he wouldn't want his friends to be hurt in any way. I will wait with you."

In all honesty, Cordé was shocked.

A minute ago, Rahya had been red-faced and determined, and the next moment she bent to the other's wills effortlessly.

Cordé was confused, that is, until she caught Luke's embarrassed glance at the floor.

Ah.

It made sense.

He had mind tricked her . . . subtly. He'd been working on that. And if Father knew what he'd done . . . there would be harsh words, she was sure.

Father's rule was that overriding a person's free will, unless absolutely necessary, was unethical. He didn't mind speaking directly to a person and suggesting alternative actions, but taking someone else's words and _forcing_ a person to agree with them . . . That was simply not allowed.

But Cordé had to agree that it was useful. They would have no more protesting from Rahya in the near future.

* * *

 _It took three years for Padmé to take control of her mind._

 _In many ways, her past before Dantooine seemed like a dream._

 _The first year, everything was all too real. The twins were a living example of everything she'd lost. She'd lost Anakin, she'd lost her standing in the galaxy._

 _She continually wondered what would have become of her children if she'd returned to her old life and sent them off to be trained with Obi-Wan. Those few minutes on Mustafar, she thought she could have. The pain of what had happened to her husband was too raw, too new. She was still in denial, and she needed time to mourn. She could have sent Leia off to be adopted by the Organas, and Obi-Wan could have taken Luke to Tatooine to live with his aunt and uncle. She would have disappeared into a shell of who she once was, serving mindlessly under the Empire as she faded every moment._

 _But then she held her children . . . Her precious twins . . . She felt their tiny heartbeats, held their little hands, and kissed their soft baby hair._

 _And she knew that never in a thousand lifetimes would she give them up for anything._

 _She never expected Obi-Wan to follow her into a self-imposed exile. She assumed he would go after Vader at least one more time, then go with Yoda to join forces and start over._

 _But apparently the universe had a different plan._

 _She would not have made it alone, without him. He was her support, her firm foundation as they mourned together. He knew Anakin probably better than she did. The two of them—Master and Padawan, teacher and student—were brothers in all but blood._

 _In absolutely no way did she ever forget Anakin. He was her little bright spot in a crumbling world for a few years. She loved him with all her heart._

 _But even loved ones betrayed the people around them._

 _What Anakin did was unforgivable. Completely and utterly unforgivable. He had gone down a path Padmé absolutely could not follow. He had succumbed to that which he had sworn to fight against. A small part of her believed that a bit of light was buried deep in soul, but she had no way of knowing. Who was she to judge? She didn't have the Force to guide her—to tell her whether or not there was good in her husband, still._

 _Obi-Wan believed he did not. He doubted the presence of the light side of the Force in his apprentice . . . He believed that Darth Vader had completely destroyed what was left of Anakin Skywalker._

* * *

 _"How are you?" A soft voice interrupted Padmé's musings, and Obi-Wan settled himself on the porch step next to her._

 _The meadow in front of their little house was splattered with patches of water, and the twins, now only three, splashed each other mercilessly with the mud and grass. It would be a horror to clean them, but for now she let them have their fun._

 _Padmé rested a hand on her pregnant belly and glanced sideways. "Alright," she admitted, "just tired."_

 _"Honestly?" Again, he seemed to read her mind._

 _She sighed and let the curtain of hair fall around her face. "I miss him," she whispered. "Especially days like this . . . I wish he could watch his children grow up . . ."_

 _His hand rubbed her back absently, and even without the Force she could feel his suppressed emotions. She lifted her head and they gazed out into the clearing, where little Leia had hoisted a fistful of dirt and ambushed her brother, who whirled and returned the favor. Their small voices, though delightedly screaming and giggling, did little to lighten Padmé's mood._

 _The tears seemed endless these days. She knew it was due to the pregnancy, but at every comment, every thought, and every reminder of Anakin and the life he'd left behind, she fought to suppress her welling tears._

 _She was torn, though she knew she shouldn't be. At moments like these, she wondered if she should allow herself to love the man beside her at all._

 _Obi-Wan had been absolutely nothing but supportive this whole time. As a Jedi, he'd been trained to keep his feelings at bay and never let them control his actions . . . But wasn't that exactly what they'd been doing? His presence on Dantooine and his commitment to Padmé and the twins was not purely out of duty. She knew he loved them all, and they returned it. They were a family, for better or worse, and only being a family had gotten them this far._

* * *

They waited a whole day on Tatooine.

Han had been to the spaceport many times, so though he didn't know what was suitable for a girl Cordé's age, he knew which bars served the best food. The group crammed into one booth in a less-sketchy-looking cantina. Luke was smashed up against the wall on the inner side, Chewbacca filling up nearly the whole bench, while Han sat facing almost sideways, leaning backward against his wookiee friend, trying to act as nonchalant as humanly possible. The girls sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Cordé in the middle and Leia directly across from her twin.

The time went slower than any of them wanted. They ate their food, sipped their drinks, and talked idly. Cordé's eyes remained wide and uncertain, and Luke wondered if it was only the harsh light that made her look pale.

"This is ridiculous," Han complained, continually. Chewie roared in agreement.

No one replied. None of them liked their situation, but if there was one thing Father never failed to remind them of, it was to trust the Force.

 _Trust the Force._ Luke could hear the phrase in his father's voice. He never doubted it. Since he was a child, the ancient Jedi beliefs had been his life—his foundation. But he also understood the importance of keeping his abilities a secret . . . At age ten, his parents had taken himself and Leia aside and talked, thoroughly, about the dangers of the Force and what it presented to them. It had all seemed surreal at the time, but Luke now understood the gravity of the situation. Three Force-users traveling the galaxy were not exactly inconspicuous. He now lived with the knowledge that at any moment someone might come for them. They posed a threat to the Empire, he knew that. And he liked it. He wanted to take the corrupt government down and help a new one rise. He was not ignorant—his mother had told him of better times, when democracy reigned, and every system had a voice. She explained to him of a time when dictators were not tolerated, and the Senate met to discuss issues. The Old Republic seemed like a wild dream to him, as did the Jedi Order.

But now it had become a reality, in the short time since he left his planet. The Empire was out of hand, he thought. There was order to it, but corruption and the longing for power made it an unachievable dream. Dictators never worked. When the people never chose what was best for them, absolute madness ensued.

The Emperor led by fear. No one would step out of line, because his troops had slaughtered entire villages for just one protest. No one dared make a noise in the silent vacuum of the Empire.

. . . Except for one group. The Rebellion.

Luke was, to put it simply, shocked by what they had accomplished already. They were untraceable, like shadows. But at every turn, they always managed to put a sizeable dent in the government. They struck at the most unforeseen moments, with more force than anyone thought possible. They took every chance, even the tiniest chances of possibilities.

Rahya had told them the story of the battle of Scarif, which took place only a few short standard days ago. That fearless, selfless band of Rebels had risked everything. They had died for the good of the galaxy . . . And now none other than R2-D2 held the fruits of their labor, in the form of a tiny data disk. It was their last hope. Their one big accomplishment and chance against the Empire. Luke could only dream of being as brave as those Rebels.

* * *

.

 **.**

 **So! I hope you liked that- I loved sticking in the little Rogue One reference :) If for SOME reason you haven't seen it yet, watch it. Best two-and-a-half hours of the last two years.**

 **Anyway, I'll try to get my rear in gear and start updating more regularly, but for now just hang tight, bear with me, and we'll have this fic finished in no time!**

 **Thanks, you guys! You're the best :)**


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back! I am so sorry about that, I promise I'm not abandoning you. And I hate having these lame excuses, but for real, life got in the way. I was trying to work as much as I could during the summer, and some crazy stuff has happened with my family. Also, I have to be honest: I haven't had a ton of inspiration or motivation to keep writing. But we took a trip to see the eclipse (how crazy was that, honestly guys?) and being trapped in a car for thirteen hours doing nothing but staring out the window, thinking about life and the tiny size of this world will do great things for your creativity.**

 **So I cranked out this chapter, and half of the next one in just two days!**

 **I can't say what the update schedule will be like during the school year, but I promise I will do my best to keep going! :) Your great reviews did help me, by the way, so thank you!**

 **Now, finally, the update :D**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _Chapter 11_

 _._

 _._

It was time.

Darth Vader strode through the halls of the Death Star as it traveled through hyperspace, toward the one planet to which he hoped never to return.

He needed a special audience for this. Though the station was nearly operational on a full scale, Tatooine was too remote to make a public statement. They needed a larger, more well-known and vital planet, Tarkin had said. Tatooine simply would not do, and it was a waste of resources to annihilate it.

Vader hated the Death Star. It was unnecessary and over-done. He knew it was no match for the power of the Force, and the Emperor agreed. But they needed something . . . A tool to strike fear into the hearts of their subjects. With this station, no system would ever step out of line again, for fear of total annihilation.

Vader wanted Obi-Wan and Padmé to witness the arrest of his—and her—child, and the princess of Alderaan. She would be able to give them vital information.

* * *

It was time to leave.

Han nearly threw himself into the pilot's chair, Chewie roaring beside him.

"I know, I know," he muttered. "I hate it, too." All the times they had stopped to refuel on Tatooine, Chewbacca had complained about the heat. All that fur was ideal for his cold, wet home planet of Kashyyyk, but the two desert suns were too much for the wookiee. Han agreed.

"Let's get going," Chewie growled. "It's been too long."

"Boy, you can say that again."

The others strapped themselves into the back, and before they knew it, the Falcon was soaring above Mos Eisley. The sand planet shrunk behind them, spinning and dwindling down to only a yellow and brown hole in the galaxy.

But as soon as they exited the atmosphere, the whole ship, filled with yelling and chattering and beeping before, suddenly became eerily silent.

In the distance, looming huge and dark, like some sort of metallic moon, was the Death Star.

Han's breath caught in his throat. He tried to brush off the sudden feeling of cold and fear, but to no avail. As he kept the ship on a straight path, while the nav computers whirred, terror set in.

Beside him, Chewbacca growled nervously. "Those computers better hurry up." Then the wookiee noticed his friend's pale face and shaking hands. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know, Chewie, something seems—"

The _Falcon_ suddenly went dark.

Four pairs of feet came running toward the cockpit, and four voices simultaneously demanded to know what happened. R2-D2 came, beeping, down the hallway, followed by Threepio, who exclaimed, "Yes, Artoo, we know it's the Death Star, no need to repeat it! And yes, I can keep up if I want to!"

The cockpit was an uncontrollable ruckus. Chewbacca insisted he didn't touch any sort of button, Han shouted that he must have, Rahya yelled that this would never have happened if they had just left earlier, and Leia's deafening words were incomprehensible.

The _Falcon_ jerked, then started humming. Finally there was silence again.

"What is going on?" Luke finally asked, deathly quiet.

"No clue, kid." Han's lips were pursed, and his brows drew together. "Could be a tractor beam."

Leia's eyes bugged out. "You're kidding, right?"

"Sorry, your highnessness, this ain't no joke."

Chewie growled in terror.

The pilot sat back, his head bumping against Cordé's white-knuckled hands which clung to his chair. "Hey," he reassured her quietly, "relax, we'll be okay." He raised a hand and placed it over her own, in a rare gesture of brotherly kindness.

Together, silently, the wookiee, five humans, and two droids watched the Death Star come ever closer, its very presence striking not just fear, but dark anticipation, into their hearts.

* * *

Obi-Wan ran the situation through his head for the two-hundredth time.

He'd been sitting in the same position for a solid eight Standard Hours, eyes fluttering closed every once in a while, the bones of his feet aching and stinging due to the hard, cold metal of the cell floor. Padmé paced, her feet _tap-tapping_ gently, her hands clutching the rough brown cloak that enveloped her.

As far as he could figure, as he told her before, there was no feasible way of escaping. He hadn't engaged in any kind of combat in over eighteen years. He had labored hard, and his body was strong, but he felt somehow . . . disconnected from the Force. He believed everything he had twenty years prior, but he was no longer able to feel that rush that meant he was communicating properly. He had no idea if he would survive a lightsaber duel. He didn't know if he could protect her . . .

But then there was the other side of things. If they sat here and did nothing, he was very sure they would eventually be executed. Then who would find the children?

Who would run up to them and reassure them that everything was alright? Who would wrap them in an embrace and kiss their heads? Who would be there to answer frantic questions regarding their wellbeing? Who would promise never to let them worry again?

For about the fifth time in his whole life, Obi-Wan was on the verge of tears. As he pictured Luke's gentle eyes but strong demeanor, Leia's determined gaze, and Cordé's innocent and caring personality, he suddenly lost control of his emotions. His shaking hands cradled his face, his throat was rough, and his eyes stung. How would they ever bear it? Losing their parents without ever saying good-bye?

Suddenly he was twenty-five again. His own screams echoed through his mind, panicked, furious, raw. For a moment, he was begging Qui-Gon to stay. He saw a flash of red. If only he were faster. If only he were stronger. If only, if only, if only . . .

The only father figure he'd ever had . . . dying in his arms. He could have prevented it, if only.

This time, he decided, there would be no _if only._

"Padmé," he whispered. The first voice in eight hours.

"Yes?" she replied, rushing to him, lowering herself to the floor.

He gazed into her eyes, remembering the first time he'd seen them. He was so innocent, so ambitious, so optimistic. Already so in love. "Padmé," he repeated, raising a hand to place on her arm. A tiny hint of a smile flickered over his lips. "How does escaping sound?"

* * *

It was so cramped, Leia didn't know if she could stand there one more second. Someone was standing on her feet (of course it was Luke), and someone else had their elbow dug so far into her ribs, she didn't know how they could remove it without injuring her even more. She had very specific boundaries for personal space, all of which were being broken at the moment. She smelled four different pungent body odors, and two types of motor oil. Everyone was trying to control their breathing so desperately, it was almost comical.

Luke, for instance, sounded like a frantic baby eopie who lost its mother. His mouth gaped like a fish, and due to him being so nervous, his throat tightened, creating a high-pitched whine on the inhale and a rattling buzz on the exhale.

She felt for his hand and squeezed, noticing his face relax slightly. The squeak became a wheeze.

Cordé, meanwhile, clutched poor Chewbacca as if her life depended on it. Rahya, who had her elbow in Leia's ribs, stood back to back with Luke, whose nose was a hair's width from Han's jaw.

The two men had so far done everything in their power to either ignore each other or continue butting heads. There was no in between. As of now, Han looked like he would fall over from the effort of not touching Luke in any way. She guessed they were consciously unaware of their rivalry, since neither was outwardly cruel to the other, but the subconscious was a very big place, so Leia was told. Whatever it was (male territorial instinct, protectiveness, basic disliking, who knew?), it could be amusing to watch, but she wished they would just admit their differences and forget the rivalry.

She suddenly became hyper-aware of every sound and movement of the ship and the people around her. The _Faclon_ rattled and creaked and whined, the telltale engine sound painfully absent. Yet they continued to move.

A "tractor beam," Han had called it. It dragged them toward the Death Star, achingly slow. If it hadn't been terrifying, it would have been amusing how many invisible forces had the upper hand on Leia's life at the moment.

As the ship lurched and settled, the landing gear hissing, Leia threw both her arms around her brother, a sudden wave of terror washing over her. In stark contrast to all the bright Force presences surrounding her, she sensed another . . . It was darker than anything she'd come across so far, more ominous than even the station it resided in, and so complicated and twisted, Leia doubted anyone could ever unravel the layers of hatred.

It was Darth Vader, she knew, and he was waiting for them.

* * *

This would go off without a hitch, Vader was certain. He could feel his own accomplishment as soon as the _Millennium Falcon_ was dragged into the hangar. His chest filled with pride and excitement for what was to come . . . though those feelings were accompanied by a certain amount of tension.

The _Falcon_ was, to the basic observer, a fairly unimpressive vessel. But Vader could see under the hood, at least figuratively if not literally. It was the fastest ship this side of the galaxy, he was told. As it drifted into the hangar, Vader stood and braced himself for what he would meet inside.

The ramp lowered in a burst of steam, and for a moment Darth Vader couldn't see past the entrance. Then it was clear, and with a _snap_ of his cape, he strode toward the _Falcon_ , two troopers at his back.

* * *

 _Luke Kenobi stopped, resting his hands on his knees, doubling over limply, and gasped desperately for air. Dantooine's mountainous peaks didn't allow for easy breathing._

 _"_ _Luke!" Father called. "Are you alright?"_

 _He just shook his head, since his voice was unusable. His father back-tracked for a bit, and Luke heard just a hint of heavy breathing._ Not fair, _he complained to himself._

 _"_ _You need to push yourself, son," Father reminded him with a grin, "but not to this point. Sit down and have some water."_

 _Luke nodded weakly, throwing himself onto the rocky ground. He snatched the canteen from Ben and let the water soothe his throat and cool his mouth. He wiped the condensation from the bottle on his already-damp forehead and neck._

 _"_ _How," he managed, finally, "are you not tired?"_

 _"_ _Practice. Everything comes with practice."_

 _Still too winded to answer, the boy just nodded._

 _The two sat on the rocks and moss, gazing out over the Dantooine landscape. The mountain dropped into a gulley, then rose again, forming crooked cliffs. Beneath, thickly forested patches of green clashed with blue lakes and brown pastures._

 _At just fourteen, Luke was finally finding his own strength, both mentally and physically. Father asked the boy to join him on a mountain hike, to which Luke readily agreed. He had no idea it would be this strenuous, but he was able to hold his own, until the steepest section, where safe dirt and roots wound through unsteady shale. Footing was everything in this area, and though Luke was very strong, having worked on the property and in his father's shop all his life, his legs lacked what his upper body had gained, and his stamina had lightyears to go before it matched Ben's._

 _Father and son were quiet for a long time, just gazing at the beautiful planet of theirs._

 _"_ _Father?"_

 _"_ _Hm?"_

 _Luke ran his fingers through the loose rocks. "What are other planets like?"_

 _Ben smiled, raising his eyes to the sky. "Some are very beautiful. Some are desolate, ugly places."_

 _"_ _Tell me about them?"_

 _He thought for a moment, then began, "Well, the most beautiful, in my opinion, is Naboo. Your mother comes from there."_

 _Luke's face lit up in a boyish grin._

 _Father continued, "It's very full of trees, like here, but not pines. Wide trees with large leaves, and tall ones with dark, rich green leaves. There are more lakes than anyone could count. The cities are beautiful, with tall, dome-roofed buildings and brown cobblestone. The people love flowers, so there are so many colors and petals you can hardly concentrate!"_

 _Chuckling, Luke grabbed a handful of moss and examined it in his hands. Then he asked, "Where are you from?"_

 _This took Ben by surprise. He didn't remember his birth planet or family . . . He knew he came from Stewjon, but he'd never set foot there since the Jedi took him away._

 _"_ _Coruscant," he answered. "It's an . . . interesting place, shall we say? The whole planet is one city."_

 _The way Luke's eyes bugged out was so comical, Ben had to physically fight his own laugh._

 _"_ _You've seen it on the holos," he reminded his son._

 _"_ _Sure, but I didn't know the_ whole thing _was a city!"_

 _Grinning, Ben continued, "It's always dreadfully busy, even at night. Air traffic is impossible, and there are so many politicians, one can nearly smell all the lies."_

 _Then Luke wanted to know his least favorite planet._

 _"_ _Oh dear," Father scratched his chin. He had no idea. He despised Tatooine, Kamino, and Geonosis equally, but how could he tell his son of the horrors that occurred on Mustafar? He wanted to be completely honest, but this was a subject best left for a later date._

 _"_ _I much dislike Tatooine. It's a complete desert planet, and there are Jawas, Hutts, sand people, and a host of other awful creatures. And the Hutts are infamous for keeping slaves when there were laws forbidding it. They had palaces, still do, filled with slaves and bounty hunters."_

 _Luke was silent. He had that look that told Ben he was thinking very hard about something very important to him. Ben knew that gaze all too well. He saw it every lesson with his Padawan, but instead of focusing on what Obi-Wan tried to teach him, Anakin would adopt this look and think about something else, such as all the things he would do when he gained knighthood . . . First and foremost of those dreams was that of rescuing his mother._

 _Obi-Wan always had this nagging feeling that something spurred Anakin early on to accept Palpatine's teachings, and he wondered if that had to do with his mother. Of course, in the fourteen years since Anakin's fall, Obi-Wan learned nearly everything from Padmé. How the two of them had escaped to Tatooine while Obi-Wan was being held captive on Geonosis. How Anakin lost his mother . . . and his reaction to that situation. The only other person he told, Padmé informed Obi-Wan, was Palpatine._

 _He was not surprised. Anakin's relationship with the Chancellor had always given the boy's Master a sense of uncertainty and foreboding . . . and not just because he hated politicians. But he saw why Anakin was attracted to the man. All the Jedi, he believed, treated the boy as someone above average—he was, after all, the Chosen One. Their expectations for him were so great, especially after all Qui-Gon's efforts to apprentice him. Being thought of as such was exhausting for Anakin, who then searched for other people who offered an equal view, or that of a doting father figure. He, of course, found those in Padmé and the Chancellor. The unfortunate part of that was that both of those relationships would eventually be his downfall._

 _Obi-Wan was absolutely adamant that Luke and Leia not inherit their father's fate. He nurtured them as he should have with Anakin, pouring all his love and encouragement into them._

 _He just wished they didn't remind him of his Padawan as much as they did . . ._

 _"_ _Do all the stars have a system?" Luke's eyes stretched toward the heavens, catching pinpricks of nearby planets and stars in the early morning sky._

 _"_ _Yes, I believe so."_

 _"_ _Has anyone ever been to them all?"_

 _Ben quirked an eyebrow. "No, I don't believe so. There are far too many."_

 _"_ _Well," Luke insisted, his features and attitude the mirror image of his father, "Then I'll be the first."_

* * *

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 **I honestly hope you all enjoyed that. Sorry if it seemed really sudden and rushed, but there is some really great, exciting stuff coming up and I don't want to waste too much time on fillers anymore.**

 **Let me know what you thought! I'll probably have chapter 12 up next week or so. :)**

 **Until next time...**


	13. Chapter 12

**Well hey there! Welcome to chapter 12! Thank you all so much for sticking with me and being patient, it honestly means so much. Again, I adore every single one of your reviews, and I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! We've got some action, some family time, some anger, and some foreshadowing . . .**

 **Now, without further ado . . .**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **A New Promise**_

 _ **.**_

 _Chapter 12_

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* * *

They had a plan. Granted, it was a half-formed, thrown-together type of plan, but a plan nonetheless. It would serve its purpose and, if all went well, get them out alive.

When the boarding ramp hissed, and boots pounded above them, everyone in the compartment held their breath. Rahya's right hand reached back, almost against her will, and grasped Luke's. She noticed its shaking, and he must have noticed hers doing the same. His fingers squeezed hers and his thumb ran along her knuckles.

To steady herself, Rahya reached to her left and latched onto Chewbacca's elbow.

They were all connected then. Cordé clutched Chewie and Han simultaneously, Leia held hands with her brother, Han and Leia's arms were linked, her fingers wrapped around his vest, and Rahya held on to both Luke and the wookiee.

They were an unlikely, mismatched group, but they only had each other.

The boots continued down the hallway, pausing here and there. They could hear muffled voices and blasters clicking.

Then one sound silenced all the others.

It was the sharp _hiss-whoosh_ of mechanical breathing.

Everyone's hands gripped tighter until their knuckles turned white. This was not in their plan. There was no way they could have come up with a way out of this.

Boots stomped, rhythmically, backward from where the others stopped. Everyone held their breath. The feet halted . . . directly over their hiding place.

 _Hiss._

 _Whoosh._

Then they moved on, down the ramp, and continued, echoing, through the station.

They all released a collective breath.

Finally, Luke and Chewie made eye contact, nodded, and the wookiee raised his hands and flung the panel from its resting place.

Han scrambled out, while Luke jumped straight up and flipped backwards, igniting his lightsaber at the same time. Leia followed.

In a few swift, silent blows, the troopers were down, and Han and Luke quickly donned the stiff, white armor. They dragged the bodies to another floor compartment, then searched their belts for binders.

Soon enough, Leia, Rahya, Chewbacca, and Cordé were cuffed, and the droids, who had been shut down in the bunk compartment, were sporting fake restraining bolts, and were waddling and rolling obediently behind the group.

They had realized, while asking Artoo to show them the plans, that these were the basic blueprints. They had no idea where the control room would be, or the prison level, or any sort of computer panels. But they did find one very important detail that could mean life or death: There was a ventilation shaft placed exactly in the right way that, when hit with some sort of torpedo, would create a chain reaction so strong it could blow the entire station to bits.

 _"_ _What kind of nerf-herding architect would make that kinda mistake?"_ Han commented, his eyebrows quirking.

Rahya had fixed him with a deathly glare. But everyone else agreed. It was too huge and obvious of a mistake for anyone other than a lunatic (or a complete traitor) to miss.

No one questioned them as they strode down the huge gray halls. Luke was the one to lead both his sisters, and both their hands shook with terror. But Leia held her chin high, her dark eyes steely and piercing. Cordé, poor brave, strong, innocent, young Cordé, tried to mimic her sister, but Luke noticed her chin quivering.

They crammed into an elevator, where Luke exclaimed, "I can't see a thing in this helmet!"

* * *

Padmé wondered if Obi-Wan had not become delusional. Perhaps "delusional" was the wrong word. However, she did believe he was losing hope very quickly. She'd seen a spark return when he mentioned escaping, but every scenario they went through had turned up as unrealistic. No matter what they tried to do, there was always some way Vader would find them.

. . . Vader. She tried to narrow down her feelings about him. So far she'd decided this: She had no idea.

On one hand, he was the father of two of her children, her first love, her reckless, brave, endearing Anakin . . . And on the second hand, he was the sole reason for her heartbreak, her exile, and he was the downfall of the entire galaxy. She had no idea whether or not there was still any kind of good in his heart. And even if there was, would he ever let it show? Could it reverse the process? Was he even redeemable? She simply had no way of knowing.

She hated not knowing.

"Obi-Wan," she murmured, sliding closer to him on the bunk and leaning her head on his shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

He sighed and ran his hands over his tired, aged face. "Why is he keeping us here?"

"What do you mean?"

Those sharp blue eyes were hooded by a furrowed brow. "He could take us out and be rid of us as soon as he wished, but he hasn't. He can't be all monster, or we would have been dead ages ago. Do you know how dangerous we are to the galaxy? To his empire? Padmé, we are the tipping point. He believed you to be dead and me to be as good as such. You and I, Luke and Leia, even Cordé . . . We could reverse the fate of the galaxy, and he knows it. Why hasn't he done away with us yet?"

And suddenly, perfectly on-cue, the hydraulic door _hissed_ open, and two troopers stormed in.

Obi-Wan and Padmé were immediately on their feet, hands reaching for absent weapons. There was a good minute before anyone spoke. Finally, one trooper reached up and tore off his helmet.

"Mother, Father," Luke exclaimed, "we're here to rescue you."

Padmé hardly had time to take in the words of her son before all hell suddenly broke loose.

Red lights began flashing outside, sirens started blaring, and voices over the intercom were shouting frantically.

The second trooper tore off his helmet, revealing a face that was only vaguely familiar.

"Now what, kid? You got a way out of this one?" the man questioned, loudly, while making eye contact with Obi-Wan and tossing him a cylindrical object. It was a blur, and Padmé barely caught Luke pulling out a second blaster from his belt before it flew through the air, and her reflexes kicked in to catch it.

"Nope," Luke admitted. "Didn't really think we'd get this far." With these words, they were already sprinting down the hall, to the left, Padmé and Obi-Wan doing their best to keep up.

Three troopers intercepted them, and immediately blasterfire was everywhere. Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and blocked what he could, while the other three returned the favor. Those taken care of, they finished the journey to the huge door at the end of the hall.

The door slid open, and the four people nearly fell over each other in an effort to get in . . . and a familiar squeal met Padmé's ears. She glanced up, and three girls, a wookiee, and three droids caught her eyes. A small figure tumbled over a desk and enveloped her in a frantic hug.

"Cordé," she breathed.

"Mother . . . we thought you'd been executed! The computer told Artoo, and he started crying so then I cried, and Luke said of course they wouldn't kill you, so I wanted to go see, but Han gave me a hug and said of course not, he would go look instead, then Luke said no way, he would go, so they both went and they were gone so long! Oh, Mama, I'm so glad you're alive . . ."

Her eyes filled with tears at her daughter's story. "Me too," she whispered. Then she caught sight of Leia, whose eyes were red, but dry.

"Darling," Padmé murmured. "Leia, are you alright?"

The girl nodded, only grasping her mother's hand, then taking a deep breath and offering a smile.

Glancing over, Padmé noticed Obi-Wan and Luke conversing quietly but intensely.

"So what now?" a voice questioned from the back of the room. Her face, also, was familiar to Padmé. Her darker skin tone and sleek black hair reminded her of an old friend of hers . . . "They'll be here any second, and we don't have a plan past this," the girl continued.

Luke's head whipped around, instantly attentive. "We said we need to disable the tractor beam," he reminded.

"But that's all we know," the taller man in the trooper armor added. "I ain't walking straight into a trap again."

"Han, what triggered the alarms, anyway?" Leia asked, fixing her fiery gaze onto the man. "We didn't do anything."

"Don't ask me," Han snapped, fingering the blaster at his hip. He gestured toward Luke. "He's the brains, sweetheart."

"Hey," Luke reminded, "Rahya got us this far, I want nothing to do with—"

And the arguing continued.

Padmé watched intently as words were flung around the room like a shooting range. She noticed Obi-Wan's heavy sigh as he evaded the swinging arms and accusing fingers, and made his way toward the droids. He spoke briefly with R2-D2.

All of a sudden, the alarms stopped.

Every eye in the room snapped toward the ceiling.

"Artoo sent out a false alarm signal. It won't last long, but it will buy us some time," Obi-Wan explained. "Now, if I could just ask one question. What is going on?"

Everyone glanced at each other. Finally, Luke sighed.

"From the beginning," Ben added.

"Well," Luke began, "we did what you told us to. We went to Alderaan . . ." And he recounted everything that occurred in the last few days. It took Padmé absolutely by surprise how brave and resilient the children had been. Luke, leaving his fighter on Dantooine in favor of outrunning Imperial troops with his sisters, then negotiating a good price for the ship, and finding a trustworthy pilot. Leia, for staying strong and working with her brother, deciding on the best course of action for every situation. And Cordé, for being so brave, and what absolutely shocked Padmé was the recounting of her standing up to those troopers on Tatooine and her incredible skill with the Force.

When Luke finished, everyone was silent for a long, long time. They knew time was of the essence and every second counted. Vader's behavior, as usual, was unpredictable. But there was so much to take in. So much had happened in a few days—they had gone from a peaceful farm life to a life of rebellion and war.

Padmé pressed a fist to her lips, blinking quickly. Obi-Wan's warm hand covered her elbow, and he cleared his throat. "I am so proud," he declared, "of every one of you."

* * *

 _The wind blew gently through the trees, tickling his face and hands. Obi-Wan stared up at the limitless night sky, his head resting gently on the wooden slats. Footsteps thudded behind him, and he sat up._

 _"_ _Father?" the small voice began. "Why are you outside?"_

 _Obi-Wan grinned and opened his arms to his youngest daughter. "Why shouldn't I be?"_

 _"_ _It's cold." She seemed so confused as she stepped into his embrace, obviously concerned for her father's wellbeing._

 _He gathered her into his arms, keeping her tiny frame safe from the elements. "It is not terrible." His breath formed puffs of vapor._

 _"_ _Father?" Cordé's voice was muffled by his sleeve._

 _"_ _Yes?"_

 _"_ _Leia was mean to me."_

 _His hand ran absently up and down her little back. "I'm sorry, love."_

 _"_ _She said she hated me." Cordé began to whimper, her frame shaking, not just from the cold._

 _Obi-Wan's heart clenched. "She didn't mean it, I promise."_

 _The girl's hands clung to her father's shirt. "Are you sure? She . . . she said I couldn't do anything. She said . . . she said . . . I was terrible and annoying." Cordé's lip trembled, and she let the tears fall. "Luke said it's not true, but . . ."_

 _But words hurt, Obi-Wan finished for her. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I will speak with her later. She shouldn't say those things."_

 _Cordé was quiet._

 _"_ _Are you alright?" Obi-Wan had to be sure._

 _"_ _Mmhm," the girl breathed._

 _"_ _You should go to bed, darling, you look tired."_

 _Cordé buried her face in her father's shoulder, shaking her head._

 _He sighed, unwilling to resist when his daughter needed comfort. So they sat, clinging to each other, Obi-Wan's arms clutching his sweet girl to his chest._

 _Never in a thousand millennia had he thought that his life would end up how it did. Over and over he pondered this: the wild, unimaginable turn his path had taken. He had begun as a wide-eyed Padawan, ecstatic to have finally been chosen by Qui-Gon Jinn, and now he would most likely end as a poverty-stricken farmer on an Outer Rim planet, with a wife and three children._

 _But, as he always did, he reminded himself of how he would never change it for the world. Padmé and Luke and Leia and Cordé had worked their ways into his heart, each filling a hole that he never knew existed._

 _Another set of footsteps tapped along the porch. Luke heaved a sigh as he settled onto the step beside his father. Cordé extended a hand to her brother, which he caught, kissed, then stroked her knuckles._

 _The faint sound of shouting drifted out from the house. Leaving the two women inside when both were moody was dangerous. Usually Obi-Wan would step between them and calm down at least Padmé, but this time he didn't think about it._

 _"_ _They've been like that the whole day," Luke sighed. He and Leia had just turned thirteen, and with it, had been given a new level of responsibility around the house that would be helpful in the long run, but at the moment only managed to grate on Padmé's nerves._

 _"_ _They will calm down," Obi-Wan assured his son. "Won't be forever."_

 _Cordé's fingers relaxed, and her breaths evened out. She was falling asleep._

 _Luke leaned back on his elbows and stared out into the distance, his breath creating little puffs, and his eyes blinking slowly._

 _Obi-Wan's mouth formed a tiny smile under his beard._

 _The two dreamers gazed into the sky, their eyes tracing the familiar constellations, while little Cordé slept peacefully in her father's arms._

* * *

Vader was running out of patience. He had waited too long. Everyone was on his station, he could feel it. But the idiots had disguised their Force signatures, so he couldn't pinpoint their locations.

He stormed down the halls, fifty troopers behind him. He had scoured nearly every inch of the station . . . except the most important part: the prison.

The door to the cell slid open with a _hiss,_ and Vader released a gut-wrenching roar. It was empty. The cold steel interior stared back at him menacingly. He whirled, nearly bursting at the seams. Hurling a Force blast at the door down the hall, he ordered three men to check the guard room. Then he turned, striding toward the door that he had blasted open.

As soon as he set his foot into that room, eight Force presences slapped him in the face. He could almost taste the residue of their signatures . . . which led straight out the other side.

Darth Vader broke into a frantic run, igniting his blood-red lightsaber. The rhythmic _shink_ of forty-seven boots followed behind him.

 _Come back, you cowards,_ he demanded. _Idiotic—_

But he never finished the thought. Because before him stood his worst nightmare.

"Kenobi," Vader growled. "I thought I had locked you up."

The older man circled, his own saber lowered, ready. "You could never keep me there forever."

"Where are the others?" Vader demanded, red-hot wrath filling his chest.

"That," Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, "you have no right to know."

Vader's fists clenched, considering how painful it would be to choke his old master. "Bring them to me, and I shall hurt no one."

The older man seemed to deflate, though his face remained stoic as ever. "Lies."

The rage over-took his mind, and Vader lunged forward, the red and blue clashing in a shower of blinding light.

He could not explain this anger if he tried. It was born of years of festering hatred, regret, and pure agony. He was angry at everyone and no one. It felt justified and wild and _right._ Obi-Wan had wronged him all those years ago, Padmé lied to him, then ran away, his child was torn from his life, and the Organa family fought him every step of his career.

"Bring them to me," he ground out through his blows.

Obi-Wan spun out of reach, his movements achingly slow. "You have lost your mind, Vader!"

Vader saw red. "I swore to destroy you years ago, Obi-Wan. I will not go back on my promise."

It was a duel of master and apprentice, father and son . . . friend against friend, enemy against enemy, teacher and student . . . and it was a spectacle to watch. Though slow, their movements were precise, calculated, and executed with so much emotion, any bystander could feel it.

They were equally matched. They would fight to the death, both knew that. It was the same as before. They had been two opposing forces, equal in strength, speed, stamina, and cunning. Now they were fighting almost reluctantly, as if it were a duty . . . a chore. Vader _had_ sworn to kill his master that day on Mustafar, and he had never forgotten his vow. But now that he stood face-to-face with the liar, he wished to watch him suffer, instead of instant, glorious death, as he had imagined in his darkest wishes. What would hurt him most . . .?

Suddenly, a Force presence blinked into existence. Then another. Vader swung his saber. Obi-Wan caught it, spun it, and ducked. Another presence appeared. Then four more.

They were underneath him. Their shielding had failed. Rage took over every part of his mind that had hesitated. He parried a swing from Obi-Wan, _jumped,_ and kicked his master in the chest.

"Bind him!" he ordered a trooper, then marched down the hall.

"You will not win . . ." Obi-Wan cried weakly, though his voice filled with determination . . . "—Anakin."

Vader froze. His nostrils flared. A bolt of light seemed to strike the middle of his chest.

Obi-Wan continued. "You cannot expect to overpower us . . .!" He groaned as the storm trooper hauled him to his feet. "The twins are more powerful than you—" his voice turned to a growl, "—shall ever hope to be."

 _Twins._

The word rang in his mind, unfamiliar and foreign.

 _What twins?_

Obi-Wan couldn't be talking about _Vader's_ child . . . or children?

He shook his head, and allowed all that rage to overtake him again. With a _snap_ of his cape, he strode down the hallway, leaving Obi-Wan and all his pain behind him.

* * *

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 **Again, thank you all so much for reading! Until next time . . .**


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